Harry Potter and the Curse of the Mummy
by mgorman92
Summary: On October 31, 1981, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named invaded Godric Hollow, killed Harry's parents, but he failed to understand the significance of the runes around the child. A mother's sacrifice, powerful and ancient magic, and the most vile curse of all time all collide to change Harry Potter into a full female and send him back to 1300 B.C. But only for ten years.
1. Chapter 1

A young family sat around the floor – candy all over the floor. A giggle went up from a little boy with messy black hair as he popped another pieced of chocolate in his mouth.

"YUMM!" he shouts.

"That's my boy," the father crows proudly. "Those are my favorite too."

"James," says the voice of a red-haired beauty sitting on the floor trying to pick up the candy and put it back in a pumpkin basket. "Don't you think Harry has had enough candy for one night. He will never go to sleep the way it is now."

"He is just a kid –" the man the woman called James chuckled. "Some day he is going to get old and he won't be able to eat candy at all."

"Not if he is anything like Dumbledore –" the woman replied with a light chuckle of her own.

"You're right, Lily," James replied.

"MORE!" Harry shouted.

"I think that is quite enough!" said Lily. With one sweep of her wand all the candy had been swept up and thrown back into its cauldron.

"Awwww, mumm –" the little Harry pouted, starting to put on a face. "Please –"

James chuckled even louder. "You have to leave it to the boy – "

He was about to continue when a cold chill filled the night air. "My wards –" Lilly said. Then there was a scream from outside of the house.

James jumped up quickly, picked up Harry and handed him to his mother.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him!" He shouted. "Go! Run! I'll hold him off –"

The little one year old did not understand who him was, but suddenly it was the him's fault that he didn't get any more chocolate. A dark shadow moves in front of the window. Then, a bright light and a loud BOOM fills the air.

Lily takes Harry into her arms and with one last look at James, rushes up the steps as quickly as possible. She rushes across the hall upstairs, using a wandless spell to open Harry's door, then she runs him into his crib and rudely puts Harry down inside.

Harry's eyes begin to water and his arms reach for his mother.

"MUMM!" he starts to cry.

Lily pulls out her wand and summons her ritual blade. Knowing she has little time, she cuts her palm and speaks in Ancient Egyptian.

"Sa –"

She slams her hand against the wall next to Harry's bed and suddenly Egyptian Hieroglyphics flare up in bright yellow colors. Harry stops crying as he looks at his mom and then at the comforting warm yellow symbols that he does not understand.

Then, Lily touches her bloody hand to Harry's forehead. She kisses his cheek and whispers:

"Mommy loves you, dear Harry."

Her eyes walk up and down the walls reading those Ancient symbols she had put up three months ago on his birthday. As she looked at each one she seemed to count in her head. When her head reached the symbol above Harry's head, her head screwed up in concentration.

In the frantic work of his mother, there is now no sound. But there is this silent anticipation of a dark threatening presence stalking its way quietly forward. Time drags on slowly. Suddenly, Harry hears an explosion. The house shakes.

"Get out of here – " Harry hears the voice of his father yell. Harry looks up to his mother's worried face and begins to sniffle once more.

"Avada Kedavra –" words Harry does not yet know or understand are spoken just loud enough to carry up the steps. Harry looks to his mother whose shoulders drop, she lets out a low cry, very softly,

"No, James –"

Then, a high-pitched – unholy, unnatural laughter – fills the house. Harry looks to his mother who at this moment looks so frail and sad. He starts to whimper:

"Mommy –"

He reaches out his little hands toward her. But she turns from him. She slams the door shut with her hands. Then, she runs to Harry's dresser and drags it with all her strength across the wall to jam against the door.

The house is deadly silent again as slowly the sense of impending dread approaches closer and closer. No sound can be heard.

His mother pulls out her wand and points it at the dresser blocking the drawer. She takes one deep breath and then a hiss sounds.

"Bombarda –" and the door explodes inside sending shrapnel everywhere. Harry looks up to see a tall man in dark robes stoop under the doorstep and glide right into the room. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's but with slits for nostrils stepped into the room, his wand held before him. The image right from a nightmare looked around the room and then those awful scarlet eyes settled on Harry himself.

Then, the nightmare turns to look at his mother, a smile gracing his awful face.

"This is quite impressive rune work!"

The nightmare turns to look again at Harry. He grips his wand tightly. But then, his mother steps between Harry and the nightmare.

"No! You can't have him," she says with deadly calm. "Take me instead."

"Your death would be senseless," the nightmare answers. "I can see that you know much and have great power. Come with me. I can teach you. Join with me."

His mother tightened her grip on her wand and stepped forward.

"You will have to kill me, if you want him –" she said.

"Such foolishness, woman," The nightmare retorts – his voice sounding like the hiss of a snake. "One final time! Step aside."

His mother does not step aside. Her lips curl. She picks up her wand and she begins to mutter. Harry's eyes stay riveted on his mother.

"Avada Kedavra," he shouts and a green light of death flies out and strikes Harry's mother right between the eyes. Harry watches his mother as she falls without a sound falling dead to the nursery floor.

"Impressive charms on the carpet as well," the nightmare hisses. Then, Harry is face-to-face and alone as that nightmare steps closer and closer. Harry's green eyes stay in contact with the nightmare, terrified.

Harry saw the golden symbols on the walls of his room turn from the golden brightness to an emerald eerie glow.

But the white-faced nightmare's red eyes glare and its mouth twists in a sneer.

"Looks like the killing curse," Harry hears him hiss quietly, "What irony."

Then the nightmare lifts up his wand and points it right at Harry's head. Harry cannot look away as he hears those awful words he only knew to bring misery.

"Avada Kedavra – "

Harry sees as if in slow motion a green light comes towards him. Closer and closer it comes. His feet feel cemented to the bed of his crib. His fingers seem glued to the rungs of his nursery. A gold light comes brightly up from behind him on the wall. Then, the green light hits Harry between his eyes and the gold light hits the back of his head.

Harry's green eyes go into the back of his head and he feels pain. He can see nothing as his head seems to open up from front and back. Then, he hears a high-pitched cry of pain and suddenly he feels something thick and oily enter into his head. He tries to scream. He tries to cry, but nothing comes out. The pain from behind pushes through his skull evaporating any further pain from the front of his head and he feels as if he is spinning and then he is falling. He reaches up but there is no one there. He reaches down and there is nothing there.

Quiet settles on the house in Godric's Hollow for what is only ten minutes, but if one were waiting for help to come it still felt forever. Finally, a thunderous noise ripped through the night from the sky as it came closer and closer. A large motorbike appeared from the dark sky above and landed just outside the ruined house.

"James –"

"Lily –"

"Harry –"

The voice of a cracked and broken man shouts. He flies through the broken door and into the House's entry room. He bends down to a man who lies on the floor unmoving.

"No James!" He cries.

But there was no time to grieve. He rushes up the steps and down the hall and through the ruined door. He rushes to the floor. His hand reaches to the neck of the woman on the floor. He cries out,

"Lily, not you too!"

More sound fills the air as it appears others dare to make their approach on the ruined cottage. The man looks up to the crib.

"Harry?"

He asks, but he sees no one. He doesn't see the Dark Lord, and he doesn't see one-year old Harry.

Large steps make their way into the house downstairs.

"Oh James –" a sad childlike voice speaks.

"Hagrid," the first man who entered says. "Up here!"

Giant footsteps make their way up each step, slow and somber. Finally a giant droops his head to make his way in. "Not Lily ter," he sniffles. "But what abo' Harre?" He asks.

"I don't know" is the quick reply. "Where's Dumbledore?"

Hagrid shakes his head. "He sent me first to make sure Harry was okay. Said he was on his way."

Miles away from Godric Hollow an old wizened grandfatherly kind man sat at his desk with his head in his hand. Around him in his office were gizmos. They were such beautiful designs of his creation, all keyed to the blood of Harry Potter. One flashed for each breath. Another ticked at the speed of Harry's heart. A third had an arrow that pointed – it had always pointed in the direction of Godric Hollow. But each one of those instruments were dead – not moving. They could not pick up the lifeblood of said Harry Potter.

There was one consolation as he looked to one other instrument he had made many years before that. One single instrument that hissed quietly the life of another soul. That machine too had stopped. He had failed the Potters, especially young Harry.

He sat there with little joy or hope. He was needed in Godric's Hollow. He knew, but he felt glued to his chair. He needed to get in front of this and make sure that people knew the truth – as he wanted them to know it, of course. But he felt as if he had taken a banishing charm to the stomach. He had no desire to move, to plot or do anything. He had hoped the last instrument would die – he had counted on it, when he convinced poor James and Lily to use the Fidelius with Peter Pettigrew as the secret keeper. It was dead – for now. But he knew that this instrument would light up again.

He looked again at the other instruments. Might those instruments light up again as well? Slowly, he stood up. If they didn't, he could at least create a story where they might.

The sleepless half naked guards of the Temple of Sekhmet stood at attention against the assaults of its enemies. No one must be allowed entrance into their holy place – not to the priests of Bastet, not even to Horus or Ra themselves. Nor would they allow the servants of Pharaoh entry without the permission of the High Priestess.

The silent guardians stood looking out into the night sky on that night when Horus, the God of the Dead was at his strongest. If he tried anything, it would be tonight. Suddenly, there was light as if from the sky above coming down like a star. It was their job to guard the Temple, but not from the supernatural. That was the priestess' job. Sekhmet was powerful enough to protect her own honor in her temple. The one guardian turns to look at the falling star and sees on the top of the dais where the High Priestess would greet the worshipers in the morning, a golden star that gets brighter and brighter until it explodes.

He looks away, preserving his sight – apparently others are not as lucky as moans and groans are heard all around him. Slowly, as if he has no control over his own actions he walks toward the place where the light had just gone. There on the Dais was a pale baby girl. He points his spear at the baby – irrationally.

"Quick, Net –" he shouts.

"To the Great Ra, Seth – " his companion named Net curses at him. "I can hardly see."

"There is no time for that now!" Seth explains. "You have to run to the High Priestess!"

"Why would I want to wake her?" Net replies.

"She will want to know that something has happened," Seth grouches back. "Go before she curses you before the Goddess."

Net grumbles but starts to run down the steps to find the High Priestess. Seth keeps his spear pointed at the baby girl. Slowly he approaches. He can barely see hair messy but still developing and dark as Nefertiti's hair itself. He looks closer and sees – she is still breathing, quietly and still.

"She must be sleeping," he whispers.

He holds his spear at the girl for the long minutes it takes for Net to return. He barely hears her as she approaches.

"Put that thing down, Seth" is the voice of the High Priestess. "I hardly think this child can hurt you or anyone else for that matter."

The High Priestess smoothly walks the sandstone steps passed him. He wasn't supposed to, but his eyes were drawn to her dark arms, her painted face, her perfect hair, and the silver snake armlet around her arm. He quickly focused on the baby again. The High Priestess gently swooped down and scooped the baby girl into her arms.

"She is a gift from Sekhmet," she intoned. She lifted the girl high in the air, seeming to listen to the sounds of the supernatural world around her.

"Very well," she said in that same solemn chanting voice.

"I name you," she said very dramatically –

"Ank-su-namum," she declared as the golden glow surrounded the girl again. "You are a gift of golden light from Ammon."

The High Priestess took the child and walked back past the dais and away from Seth. She nodded to Net as he walked back into position but spoke no further words to any of her guards. Then, she and the child were gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Ten years passed since a little girl appeared on the dais just outside of the holy place of Egypt's Goddess of War and Healing. The temple had expanded from its most holy center to a few buildings cropping out into the city of Thebes itself. The sun began to make its climb toward Ra in the heavens and its beams came back down to beat upon that temple.

It came down upon the sea of sand that blew between the Temple and the buildings surrounding that Temple. That sun soaked into a large sandstone home that stood in the circle behind it. Rays from Ra flashed through into a back room of that house already empty because its occupant was taking her morning bath. The morning light lit first on a young girl's drawing of her goddess. A hook held a small wooden stave made of Holly wood. Another hook right next to it held child's amulet that appears not to have been worn for about one or two years. Another hook on that wall displayed two Egyptian daggers laid crossed – dulled with use during the hours of training with the Temples' Arms-master, Seth.

That same sun shined onto an ornate Egyptian wardrobe filled with white tunics and gowns, befitting of the station of one in preparation to serve Sekhmet. The sun shined brightly on a slight linen garment that its owner wore around the temple. Most days would show Anck-su-Namun in that garment, sitting in another building not far from here taking her lessons from one of the Medjai of the city or an older acolyte of one of the priests or priestesses who were allied with Iset, the High Priestess of Sekhmet. Inside that closet was a white linen with woven pieces of gold in its fabric – her most precious treasure. Headdresses and jewelry were scattered in clay bowls next to these. Snake armlets and lioness shaped medallions were carefully put away.

Just next to her large Wardrobe was a table in front of an ornate mirror, and a small chair was pushed into that table. On that table in different pots and bowls and cups were a variety of cosmetics available to a young girl in training for her Goddess. That same table held another bowl with a variety of bronze rings with one silver ring thrown in. There was an alabaster jar from which from even close proximity a fragrant perfume would float to the senses.

Then as the sun's beams finally filled the whole room a small desk became illumined. The desk had papyrus of Egyptian Hieroglyphics. Words spelling out Charms that only a 5th year at Hogwarts might know. Notes were on parchment regarding the proper counters to Jinxes and Dark Creatures, as if a 5th year Hogwarts Defense against the Dark Arts student might have. A parchment with an elegant scrawl revealed notes a young girl had made on turning a teapot into a tortoise, a spell 3rd year Hogwarts students learned in Transfiguration.

From the opposite side of the room a nearly eleven year old girl with barely a loincloth around her waist stepped into the room, her skin still dripping from the morning bath ritual. She walked first to the table with its mirror and stared at her reflection. Her hair lay wrapped up and under a towel for a moment. Her eyes gazed upon an ugly scar upon her forehead.

Just that look upon the scar brought dark thoughts again into her mind and threatened to touch her heart.

"Murder –"

"Death –"

"Atma –"

Each like a mantra threatened to engulf her soul and send her away. Anck-su-Namun as she was trained from her first night in Ancient Egypt, took a deep breath and sang in a clear voice.

"Hush my dear … hush don't cry

Take that thought … hush it out

File it away … put it into a jar

Protect your emotions

Protect your mind…"

When she was young, she had to sing that song oftentimes ten to thirty times to slam shields around the darkness in her mind. Now with her heart and mind more settled, it took just once to calm herself and put up the wall necessary.

She looked again into that mirror and now she saw wide emerald green eyes that were so unusual for the city of Thebes and the people of Egypt. Quickly, before thoughts of her scar could bother her again, she reached for her camel's hair brush and began to dip it into the cosmetic mix Iset had taught her to make. She rubbed it over the scar, hiding that scar away and putting away its dark thoughts. More importantly than her action was the wall she erected around that dark spot in her mind that everyday sought to come out and impose its will upon her.

Anck-su-Namun continued to brush the bronze like powder into her cheeks, then her neck. She painted her eyes and her lips.

Anck-su-Namun stood as a girl her same age, walked in. Quietly the non-magical girl took the same brush and powder and rubbed the cosmetic on her arms and upper chest. Anck-su-Namun sat down again as that same servant girl removed the towel from around her hair and began to brush out the tangles from her hair.

Anck-su-Namun allowed herself to relax into the able fingers of the girl. This was not a luxury she normally received. Yes, she painted her face to remove the scar but with lighter tones normally. Today was special.

At this moment, the High Priestess Iset stepped into the room, her carriage as regal as the Queen of Egypt. Her beauty rivaling that of Ankensenpaaten who up to recently had been an acolyte of Hathor and that temple. Over Anck-su-Namun's naked body she placed that very special white linen dress that carried down to her ankles. Then, she slipped an armlet over her left arm.

Anck-su-Namun reached into the copper bowl in front of her and on her right hand put her one silver ring on the middle finger. On her left hand she placed a copper ring on her index and another on her ring finger.

Then she stared back in the mirror, perfectly still as Iset's maid placed strands of golden ribbons into her hair. Anck-su-Namun did not move until Iset was happy that every deficiency and every unbrazen portion of her exposed skin made it clear that she was a young Egyptian beauty training to serve her Goddess.

Iset nodded to the servant girl.

"She should pass –"

The last time Anck-su-Namun passed like this out into one of the temples to meet a priest or priestess, she had been told she didn't just pass. She was an extraordinary beauty. But Iset's critical eye was not quick to give such compliments.

With the nod from their High Priestess, the servant girl rose and quickly made her way out.

Anck-su-Namun walked into her closet and pulled down her golden colored sandals and slipped her feet into them.

When it appeared all was done, Iset pulled out a medallion with the image of Sekhmet on it, clearly enchanted.

"We are not going on a swimming trip to the Nile as young acolytes for fun, Anck-su-Namun," she said gravely. "We are preparing you to stand before your peers as a High Priestess of the Goddess. I shall present you to the High Priest of Bastet. We shall have a feast with music."

Anck-su-Namun moved her head up and down, her face broken into a huge grin at going out and showing her beauty.

"But we are leaving the safety of the Temple Grounds, Anck-su-Namun."

"Yes, High Priestess," she replied.

"This medallion will make it appear that you are not present for the majority of spies until we get to the temple." She lectured. "But there are those who could see through such magic."

"I know, High Priestess," was the quicker than wanted answer.

"Remember, you are quickly growing into a beautiful young lady. There are men in our society who would do you harm."

"I understand, High Priestess" she answered yet again.

The High Priestess dropped the medallion over Anck-su-Namun's chest and sighed sagely.

Quietly for her own ears only, though Anck-su-Namun picked it out clearly, Iset said, "I wish I could make you understand all the dangers."

Rather than dare to lecture any further, Iset turned and commanded, "Come now, Anck-su-Namun. Our chariot awaits."

Anck-su-Namun lifted her head up high, as she had been taught to carry herself. She was not royal blood, but her magic and her station as possibly the next High Priestess of Sekhmet meant that she should carry herself as if she were. Without a glance back she walked through the small door of her room and through the receiving room of their house and walked out the door.

Iset waited as first Anck-su-Namun walked past Seth, now the Arms-Master of the Temple and up the steps of the chariot. She sat down quietly on the side across from the main chair of the chariot. Then, Iset made her way up the stairs and sat down.

"To the Temple of Bastet, Seth," Iset spoke.

Anck-su-Namun did not speak and Iset did not either as the carriage made its way through the religious quarter of Thebes. Down past the Halls of Hathor and then past another temple. This way perhaps was longer, but Iset never ever drove the chariot past the Temple of Osiris. Then the chariot came to a stop outside a large temple complex with steps leading up to a domed temple. Watchtowers beamed to the left and right of that dome behind.

After Seth opened the door, Anck-su-Namun stepped out first, still invisible to all non-magical eyes and most magical eyes and she stood waiting for the High Priestess who stepped down. With a nod at herself and then Seth, Iset led the way up the steps.

Once inside, Iset turned to Anck-su-Namun, "You may take of the medallion now, but keep it close in case danger should come."

Anck-su-Namun just inside the temple took off the medallion and stood to the left of the High Priestess. A large bald man stepped into the Temple with his white cloak billowing behind him.

"Greetings, High Priestess. May your prayers and work bring Egypt victory in war and healing from its wounds."

"Thank you, High Priest." Then after a dip of the head she turned her head toward Anck-su-Namun.

"This is my young acolyte, Anck-su-Namun. Already she has shown proclivity to the Magic Arts."

The High Priest stepped up before her and looked at her carefully. "You are every bit as beautiful as my acolytes tell me, Anck-su-Namun. Welcome to the Temple of Bastet. Follow me for our feast is ready."

He led them around the dome and away from the inner temple toward one of the outer courts where charms had removed the sand and wind and provided even a cool refreshing breeze. Two young acolytes stood at the table as the High Priest of Bastet, then the two from Sekhmet entered. The High Priest carefully led Iset to the table while the young men who were at the table led Anck-su-Namun to sit in between them.

A delightful luncheon of dates, pheasant, and light Egyptian wine were served. Anck-su-Namun and her companions heard much about the preparations for the battles Pharaoh Seti was preparing against Canaan. Sekhmet had been enchanting spears and armor and other weapons. She had also been preparing healing salves.

When lunch was over, the two young acolytes stood up, "Anck-su-Namun," the taller of the two said, "May we show you the Library of Bastet."

Anck-su-Namun grinned widely. "I would delight to see your collection of scrolls." The two boys led her outside the courtyard leaving the High Priest of Bastet with the High Priestess of Sekhmet.

The High Priest shook his head at Anck-su-Namun as she left.

"You are right to worry, Iset, my dear," he said.

She said nothing but stared at the young girl's back as she slipped away.

"Pharaoh would do anything for a beauty like that –" he continued.

She shook her head. "I believe Pharaoh would leave her be. He has taken enough from the priests and priestesses of Egypt. Hathor is angry with him. Seti knows it. He will not risk my wrath."

"Perhaps you are right," the High Priest replied.

"But even if Pharaoh would claim her, she would be safe for six to eight years yet, being trained in his harems. It would not be the worst life for her."

"She would know luxury and learning for sure." He agreed.

"But I fear the High Priest of Osiris –" she whispered.

"I see in her what he would see, Iset." He was quiet for a moment. "She is powerful and her magic is dark."

"All true –" she said. "That alone would draw his interest, for I believe Anck-su-Namun when she comes to age could easily challenge his power."

"There is more than this?" The High Priest asked.

Iset nodded. "I have long suspected that she can read the secret language of Anubis. I presented to her a piece of parchment from the Book of the Dead. She was able to read it."

The High Priest's eyes grew cold and distant. "Dear gods –"

"Yes," Iset replied, "For if she were in Imhotep's hands reading the Book of the Dead for him the gods would not be able to stand against them."


	3. Chapter 3

The Temple of Osiris in the City of Thebes was the holy place of High Priest Imhotep. Imhotep's relationship with the Pharaoh and the high society of Egypt was simple – everyone went through his temple as he was keeper of the dead. Imhotep looked out into the city bustling with the activity of Pharaoh's return from another victorious battle. For nearly the last month, Seti the First had been in Canaan reasserting Egypt's power in that fertile region.

Imhotep was no warrior, but he was the second most important person in all of Egypt. Pharaoh came to him when he or one of those in his court was sick or attacked by magical weakness. He was powerful in all of the ancient arts of the magics of Egypt. The rumor among the people was that he could bring back the dead– if the price was right.

But the second greatest man did not look out into the city with joy. His eyes looked with anger upon his liege, Pharaoh Seti. The man had a Hittite wife who was exotically beautiful. But the man was not satisfied – no he had taken into his harem the one he had loved from afar. For, he had long loved the priestess Ankhesenpaatan. Ankhesenpaaten served Hathor as one of her priestesses and was poised to become High Priestess herself. But no the insatiable appetite of the Pharaoh had gazed his eyes upon her and taken her from the priesthood where he could freely be with her. Now he was forced to hide his little forays with her.

Right at this moment, Imhotep turned and walking in fitting not a priestess of Egypt, but as the woman of Seti. Her skin was darker, covered in the makeup that hid every scar, jeweled with the finest that the King would grant to all save the Crowned Queen. She had a slip of a loincloth around her waist and netting that barely covered everything else. No man could touch her – that was Pharaoh's law.

Imhotep's eyes stared with lust upon what he felt was the most beautiful woman in all of Egypt. It was a shame that Seti had seen her. Ankhesenpaaten walked into his presence one of only a few who could dare hold her head up as if she owned the Temple of Osiris. Between the Imhotep's priests, she strode her feet naked upon the stone tile below. Her eyes turning once to look upon the eyes of one of his more faithful servants and then looking ahead for her one true love. The unspoken message in that look was clear. "I am here for sex. Make sure we are undisturbed."

The priest turned his eyes to watch her perfect form as she walked past, eyes lingering where even if seen he could be dead. Then, the priest and all the others closed the door to allow her time alone with her lover and their Master. Ankhensenpaaten walked through the curtain and stepped right up to the Keeper of the Dead. Her body stopped barely a cubit away in conflict with the King's command. Her fingers reaching for his face letting him smell her perfectly perfumed scent.

His hands wove around her face, without touching. A single touch might smudge the cosmetic that shown along her body. His head bent down and kissed her sumptuous lips. He could feel darkness just like his coming as they touched. But he could not resist and he touched the softness of her shoulder as he pressed into the kiss. He pulled her closer so their bodies could touch.

The priests of Osiris were closing the door when Pharaoh Seti himself with mighty strength pushed his way through – alone for a visit with the Keeper. He could smell her, his Ankensenpaaten in the air. With eyes narrowed to the hidden room behind the curtain he started to walk closer to their hidden place. The priests behind him were closing the door as he made his way inside.

Seti strode through the curtain and there was his Ankensenpaaten posing her perfectly sexual body next to a symbol of one of Egypt's lesser gods.

"What are you doing here?" He asks her.

She does not meet his eyes, but looks down at the feline idol. As she looks up to see her liege, he reaches his hand to point with accusation.

"Who has touched you?"

She turns her head and her heart leaps into her stomach – her cosmetic has in fact been smudged. Her eyes go wide in shock of being caught, but then she turns behind to look at the true love of her life, Imhotep.

As Pharaoh Seti turns to look at his betrayer, Imhotep in a smooth motion pulls the sword from his king's scabbard.

"Imhotep?" Seti says in surprise. "My priest?"

With his own eyes on Imhotep who returns his look with cold distant indifference, he doesn't see the true betrayal with her arms reaching up approaching behind him.

Pain courses through his body as the dagger she had hidden behind the idol sank between his shoulder blades. His eyes looked up as he reacts to the knife in his back. He turns to look at the last thing he sees is Ankensenpaaten looking on with her own hate for him in her eyes as Imhotep takes his mighty sword and chops his head off cleanly, ending his life. Back and forth they slice and dice the most powerful man in the world until he is no more.

Seth stands at attention outside of the Temple of Sekhmet, happy with the peace that he has experienced these last years. Thanks to Pharaoh Seti the priests and priestesses of the gods had not bickered and fought over each other's religious artifacts, temples, and priests and priestesses. But he looked up and his heart went cold.

"Net," he turned to his friend and fellow guard, "Quick get the High Priestess. Trouble is coming!"

Net slowly lifted his eye and saw the symbol of Osiris.

"Go," Seth yelled.

Net turned and ran inside the temple. Seth saw Imhotep himself coming closer, twenty of his men were with him.

"To Attention, guards," Seth shouted.

The spears were standing bottoms on the ground and spears pointed diagonally toward the approaching priests. They were vigilant but they were not threatening – yet.

Imhotep started marching up the steps and was halfway up when Seth finally dared to speak.

"Greetings," he said, "Oh Great Avatar of Osiris," he said. "What is the purpose of this visit?"

Imhotep sneered back at him. He turned to his right and left sneering at everything he saw.

Suddenly, standing at the top of the dais was Iset who had appeared by apparition her stave in hand with the eye of Wadjet on its top. She looked down and showed no respect.

"You should not be here, priest of the dead –" she said. Then, coming up to stand next to her was her protégé and the future High Priestess of Sekhmet, Anck-su-Namun.

Imhotep stopped as he looked up at one he would dare say was already even more beautiful than Ankensenpaaten. She looked down at him with hair as dark as a raven, but she wore the white of the priestess. What distinguished her from Ankensenpaaten most were the green eyes that looked down at him, green as the death spell itself.

"Careful," Iset said to her charge next to her, "Hold up your shields. Protect your mind, but especially your soul." Iset gripped her stave firmly in her hand.

"I am Pharaoh now," were the words Imhotep spoke. "I have come to see the Temples of my Kingdom and those who serve Egypt and its people."

He regarded Anck-su-Namun. "What is your name, young priestess?" He said to her.

"Anck-su-Namun," she said quietly, unable to break her gaze from his dark eyes.

Imhotep's eyes took in the young beauty, considering that if he truly were Pharaoh, then he should be able to act as Pharaoh.

"Anck-su-Namun," he said his eyes filling with power forcing her to look back. "Come with me. You shall serve Egypt as one of Pharaoh's priestesses."

"No!" Iset said her voice beginning to boom with power. "She is only ten. What you think is abominable. And you have no power here. When the Medjai come, they shall restore the order of Egypt."

Imhotep opened his mouth and spoke,

"Atma – " he shouts pointing his finger.

Iset pointed her stave to strike back but her spell fell apart as it came into contact with the green light that came from Imhotep. The priests to his right and left lifted their staves and cast "Atma –" one after the other. After the carnage, there was only Anck-su-Namun and Imhotep.

Anck-su-Namun looked down, feeling the presence of the Black Sorcerer, Imhotep. His presence and the darkness that she tried to shield from herself were calling to each other.

"Murder –"

"Death –"

"Atma –"

She tried to put her shields up– but she was failing. For the first time, she felt her darkness rise up in triumph from within her. And her eyes drank deep of the bare chest and dark eyes of Imhotep.

"Come to me," he said, "My Anck-su-Namun."

She tried to throw him from her mind, but Imhotep was just too strong. Her hand reached out and he pulled her hand closer.

"Lead me, my Master," she said softly. Then, she walked with her hand in his.

"Flek and Dar," he said to his right and left, "Kill everyone inside. Find the Book of the Dead. Bring it to my palace."

"Yes, Pharaoh," they said.

Imhotep looked down at the young beauty below him. "Come, Anck-su-Namun," he said. "I will show you how beautiful you can be."

Then, he walked toward the chariot he had left in the courtyard below. Anck-su-Namun with her head up high walked stride for stride with the man who was now calling himself Pharaoh.

Pharaoh Imhotep I sat at his throne now in the palace in Thebes. He looked down to his right, the second most beautiful woman in all of Egypt, Ankensenpaaten. He had promised to make her his queen. He had done just as he had promised. But already he felt his gaze turning away from her to another.

For below the raised dais on his left lounged Anck-su-Namun. Her emerald eyes patrolled over the court of Pharaoh. In his opinion, she already was the most beautiful woman now in Egypt – even if she was only ten. Imhotep gazed at her back, bared but now golden from the use of the great cosmetics of Egypt. She wore the same lewd clothing that Ankensenpaaten had worn before her. Her figure did not yet fill it the way that Ankensenpaaten had, but the Masters of the Harem had arrayed her in such a way to make her appear older than she was.

She had on her right arm now not the symbol of Sekhmet, but the symbol of his ownership of her. It was an armlet with the eye of Osiris.

Imhotep smiled as her hard Death dealing green eyes stared out at those who might dare defy him. The Magical community stood below her shivering in fear. The High Priest of Bastet who had been about to speak had seen Anck-su-Namun and bowed his head and mouth and silently accepted Imhotep's rule. They could sense her power.

He continued to look at her young form and his filthy mind wanted one thing. And his mind thought to make her his tonight. His fantasies about that young supple flesh underneath made his breaches uncomfortable beneath his golden raiment as Pharaoh. These dirty thoughts made him miss the initial disturbance in the hallway outside. The doors burst open and Imhotep stands.

"Who dares?" He shouts as he begins to gather his power.

"Anck-su-Namun," he said. "Destroy these usurpers."

With the elegance of a deadly Viper, she brought her own stave out from seemingly nowhere and brought it to force.

"ATMA –" she said with deadly intent.

Green light exploded and brought down the first of the Medjai to come into the room. Then, Imhotep brought his own power to bear and the pillars shook as a great rolling mist started to build inside the room.

But as quickly as it appeared, it dissipated. The sheer number of advancing Mages had overwhelmed his spell. Then, those who lay cowering before him turned on him. They joined also in warding him against his great power. Then many more masked men had run it into the room. Anck-su-Namun seemed unaffected as her stave came down again and she brought down one and then two more of the deadly Medjai. But there was one thing that not even her great power could hold back. One Medjai got past and pointed his stave at her and said "Atma –" and she slumped to the ground. Imhotep's Anck-su-Namun was dead.

"NO!" he shouted. "I am Pharaoh, and you will receive me!"

The Medjai surrounded him, subdued his wife who was nothing with magic as Anck-su-Namun was. Both of his protectors were down on the ground. He looked in horror as first a mask was placed around Anck-su-Namun's head, then Ankensenpaaten's head, and finally he saw no more as that mask went over his head.

He sees again when he is deep underground in a hidden place. He looks around. Anck-su-Namun is nowhere to be seen, but Ankensenpaaten is already in the bandages of a mummy and lying in a sarcophagus to his left. Then, he sees his own bandages which cover everything but his eyes, but then even that becomes covered. Then, he is laid down in his sarcophagus. He struggles and tries to call his power, but somehow they have blocked him from it.

One of the masked Medjai intones:

"Imhotep," he said with deadly calm, "for the crime of abominable Black magics, for killing thy liege, breaking into the temples of the other gods and corrupting the chosen of Sekhmet, we sentence you to suffer the Hom Dai, you and your ungodly queen. With those words, Medjai around him began to close the sarcophagus. As the sarcophagi were sealing, buckets of flesh-eating scarab beetles were cast inside, and they started scuttling in.

Imhotep begins to scream as the bites start to engulf him. One after the other they eat and devour. He screams in unholy pain and he vaguely hears her screams fill the night.

With great solemnity, in the deep bowels of the Temple of Sekhmet were many sarcophagi, but the real sadness was for the two here in the bosom of the earth. On the right was the faithful High Priestess Iset bandaged and wrapped reverently and in the other was so small but wrapped as reverently, Anck-su-Namun.

As the embalming was finished the two bodies were gently laid into their tombs and closed. Hymns were chanted helping the spirits to the underworld to find their peace.

Anck-su-Namun felt as if she was floating into a large vaulted hall. Most unusual was the fact that she sat on a barge, her hands were crossed over her chest. She looked up and saw a man with a horse's head holding a stave.

"Anubis –" she whispered.

Her barge moved closer and closer until it stopped below a great scale.

Anck-su-Namun bowed her head as the great creature took a seat on a throne and he took in his hand a beating organ and placed it on one of the sides of the scale. On the otherside he placed the measure. He watched as the scale began to light up and twist and turn. Then, the heart flew off of the scale and came to Anck-su-Namun's chest and she felt herself become whole once more.

The great god stood up and came forward into the water. When he was face to face with her, he bowed his head.

"My Mistress –" he said.

Anck-su-Namun was stricken silent.

"What do you mean?" she said. Then, in his hand appeared three items, a stick from an elder tree, a rock from the Underworld and a cloak from his back.

"Mistress," he began. "In the future, you will come across these items, in fact your parents placed the cloak around you on your first day and it has already touched your soul. The others will touch you later."

Anck-su-Namun continued to stare at him.

"You still have work to do, my Mistress. The one who sent you to this time must be born and defeated. The Abomination will also come back to life. You must grow to resist him and defeat him. For if you do not defeat him, then the gods will fall and the world will fall to nothing."

Anck-su-Namun remembered again being in the presence of Imhotep. Her mind shuddered, but her body yearned for it.

"Hush, Mistress – " he said, "Do not fear. Take the time to rest."

The Dark Head and eyes of the Egyptian God of the Dead looked to Anck-su-Namun, took her hand and helped her out of the boat. Then another being appeared. Anck-su-Namun recognized this one right away, Sekhmet. She wore the white robe that Iset and then she had worn, but her head was that of a lioness.

"Come with me, child," the Goddess spoke.

Anck-su-Namun sniffled as she looked at the Goddess she had worshiped.

"But I failed you –"

The face shook her head and held a smile. "You were not yet inducted as my servant, child," she said. "What happened to you is not a failure. Now come. There are a few things I must teach you and then you need to rest."

Anck-su-Namun reached out her hand and took the hand of her goddess. Then, the light of the sun enveloped them. Then, Sekhmet and Anck-su-Namun were gone.


	4. Chapter 4

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore sat at a desk in his large office thinking of the coming school year. "This was supposed to be the year," he thought with a sigh. Harry Potter was supposed to come from the hidden place he had kept him safe in. He was supposed to be away from the attentions and Messianic thoughts of the Wizarding World. But no – there would be no Harry Potter.

He lifted up a small glass of fire whiskey, thought of he who had took the last killing curse for this poor world and dropped the drink back letting it go down his throat with a burn. The clocks in his office began to strike the turning of yet another new day. Albus took his empty glass and reached for his bottle to refill when his office suddenly came to life.

He peeked up first at the singular instrument that marked the death of He-who-Must-Not-Be-Named, but no that was still silent.

Suddenly a silver box began to flash.

"Breath –" Albus whispered.

Then, a clock that had been dead for ten years started to tick.

"His heart –" he said again.

Then, a compass started to twirl and stop. He looked carefully to see where it pointed.

He expected it to point south – southwest, but no, it pointed southeast and its urgency seemed to indicate that it was far away. Albus Dumbledore turned to his desk, pulled out parchment and quill and wrote a hasty note.

"Minerva is going to kill me –" he said as he finished the note to her. Then, he put it into an envelope and tied it to the red Phoenix perched beside his desk.

"Fawkes," he said sagely, "Go give this to Minerva McGonagall, immediately."

The great firebird exploded and disappeared.

Albus stood up summoned his wand, a second wand, his bag, always ready at a moment's notice for a long journey, and everything else he might need. Then, he stood up and twinkled his nose. With a pop, the Headmaster had popped out of the castle.

Albus looked down at his only instrument – it looked like a Muggle compass. It still pointed south. He looked up again, into the glaring light of the sun, his long-brimmed wizard's hat shielding him from the sun as he heeled his camel and bounced along. The Egyptian sun beat down on him. He grumbled to himself – he had never enjoyed the beating sun of Egypt. Deeper into the Sahara the camel and its sister who would hold another on the way back carried him as he looked into the horizon. There was no life or anything. How could he be sure that this was not some fool's errand?

It didn't take long – even for the Great Albus Dumbledore to get tired of the endless grains of sand. He was deep in the southwestern corner of Egypt, getting closer to Libya. Deep down he knew he would not cross that border. And then he looked deep into a depression and he felt the presence of powerful magic – magic he had never seen before.

Then he saw what first seemed like a tomb. Then, he saw what appeared to be the Eye of Wadjet and he followed that symbol. He made his way toward the entrance of the tomb, looking carefully for signs of wards, but they seemed strangely absent as if the reenergizing of his instruments had also brought down what protected this place.

He came closer to a dark black square cut on the side of an ancient small pyramid. He cursed lightly, "Why didn't I bring a Muggle crowbar?" But when he touched the door, it opened outward – again helping him to his destination.

Holding the Elder Wand before him, he cast "Lumos," and then entered the tomb. The entrance seemed about the same size as a closet for Knick knacks back home. But the material of this room was sandstone. He still felt no wards to speak of inside. He walked down the staircase. At the bottom, there was a mid-sized chamber with a door on the far side. The walls were smoothed over by magic and hieroglyphics (something Dumbledore had never had a strong grasp on) were covering every visible inch of the tomb.

Then, he looked up and saw a solar disk engraved on a portion of the wall. Inside of that was what he knew from his Egyptian reading as the Eye of Horus. He put his hand on the door and again it slid right open. He walked through and was able to silence his illumined wand. The room lit up in brilliant golden light.

Then, he looked to the middle of the room and came face-to-face with a young girl. She could not be any older than a young girl that would be starting Hogwarts this September. She was dressed in a simple white linen gown. On her feet were golden sandals. He peeked up and saw dark raven hair in the clean line cut of Ancient Egypt running around her forehead. The hair fell down her shoulders and laid gently across her chest. Her hair was adorned with with golden strands woven throughout. But what startled him the most were the eyes. They were green – bright green.

"Like Lily Potter's –" he said out loud, but shook his head. Lily had red hair, and this girl's hair was as black as James' hair.

"Like Harry Potter –" he spoke again. But this was a girl. She looked nothing like a preteen boy.

The girl studied him calmly and patiently as he stood before her. He could see her regal bearing – she held herself like a queen even for one so young.

He wasn't sure if it would work, but finally he spoke. "I have reason to believe that Harry Potter is here."

The girl looked up and met his eyes, and she turned her lip in a clear smile.

"Harry Potter died the day a dark shadow entered into the house of James and Lily Potter," she spoke at last.

Albus tried to place the accent, shocked at the clear English, but shocked at the lack of the English sounding dialect.

"I am," she continued, "Anck-su-Namun a disciple of the goddess Sekhmet, but not yet initiated. When your Harry Potter was struck by the Atma –" she paused at that word with distaste, "Harry Potter felt such intense pain and his body was struck with a mixture of the Shadow's Dark Magic, Lilly Potter's blood magic and a miscalculation in her Arithmancy. Your Harry Potter died and was changed into a girl. She was taken by the Goddess, Sekhmet to 1300 B.C. in your reckoning."

Professor Dumbledore was speechless. He had come to tell Harry Potter about his parent's love and show him the wonders of magic. He had thought to come to a clay pot that he could mold. But he was standing before a lovely young lady who knew of her parents and their imperfections and who seemed to have some grasp on said magic. He was not looking at a clay pot. "What to do?" He muttered to himself.

She looked at him lazily waiting for him to finish speaking to himself. After a minute, he had it figured out.

"Your name is Harriet Potter –" he started.

As he said it, he waved his wand and wordlessly cast a "Confundus," along with Loyalty charms, and a few other memory modifications.

Her green eyes narrowed at him and her body flinched slightly. "Excuse me?" She asked in a light yet dangerous tone.

"The Wizarding World of Great Britain –" He began starting to catch the steam of those inspired moments when he could lead even his enemies to see the Light – "will not know what to do with a Harry Potter who became Anck-su-Namun." He struggled royally with her true name. "But they will understand Harriet Potter. It sounds just like his name."

Her eyes opened up. "You are a ridiculous fool," she said. Then she walked away from him. "You seek to play games with me. You do not come to tell me what your need is. You withhold your thoughts and seek to make decisions as if you were my grandfather."

His eyes twinkled at her. "My dear," he said, "I am the Headmaster at a school in England – a school where your father James Potter and mother, Lily Evans met." With that ever sparkling twinkle he continued. "If they were alive, they would already have you enrolled at this school. I was their Headmaster and I will be your Headmaster too."

The room slowly began to darken and get colder. "You are a teacher at a school. But we are not in school."

His eyes darkened, clearly not used to being seen through so easily. With his wand or words he tried to cast his spells of loyalty and confusion and mind control again. They always worked.

Then, he reasoned with a twinkle in his eyes. "You are coming into a culture that you know nothing about. Your previous life had a history you seem to not understand. Money and position are connected to the name Potter, and the name Harriet allows you a connection to that past."

"I do not like this," she replied. "You not only wish to take away the name given to me by the High Priestess of Sekhmet – as the gods told her to call me. You wish to give me a name that is so –"

Her face screwed up in utter disgust, but that turn of the lips still did not draw away her beauty.

"That name is so horrible –" she settled.

"We can discuss this on the way," the Headmaster said the twinkle coming back to his eyes, but his mind trying desperately to find a way to control the girl.

"I have spent the last two weeks since my resurrection scrying," she replied. "I am in agreement with you that we do need to hurry."

With a sigh Albus reached over. "Well, come with me, then" he began. "We have a long journey back to England."

She walked behind him but she did not take his hand.

"Lead the way, Headmaster –"

His eyes with a twinkle started to walk as she stepped quietly behind him. He saw the lights go out as they stepped through the cavern. He felt the sudden oppressive reassertion of dangerous and powerful wards in that room. They walked through the hallway and up the steps. As soon as the young girl passed through the door, it slammed shut. She turned and waved her hands and he again Albus felt power twist around the room. She walked quietly behind him the sun and sand starting to stifle and twist and blow at him. He looked back and it seemed to fall around her with her beauty untouched.

When they made it out of the depression, she turned one last time and spoke words with command and suddenly the depression shimmered, and the pyramid below disappeared. She turned to the Headmaster who looked at her in total shock. She looked past him and with a disgusted look she spoke:

"That is our transportation?"


	5. Chapter 5

Anck-Su-Namun with narrowed eyes followed the purple fool through a hole in his office to a street with cobbled brick that twisted from another hole in the wall and turning out of sight. The twentieth century of the A.D. time period put houses taller and closer together. She felt claustrophobic at the close proximity of all the buildings.

She followed the elderly wizard to a world of people dressed to the hilt in silks just as she was – wearing something borrowed from that stiff woman Professor Dumbledore had introduced her to as Minerva McGonagall. She would have preferred her Egyptian-wear.

It was even worse that another one of his demon inspired Professors had insisted that she cut her hair in the English style. Her mood kept getting more and more sour. The argument regarding her name had continued. Dumbledore had not relented in his insistence that she be called "Harriet Potter." She had refused to budge. She loved her Egyptian name, and she was no longer Harry Potter so why try to be anything like Harry Potter.

Dumbledore strode ahead in quiet, looking for – hoping for – something or anything to make an impression on the young lady and gain him some standing with the girl.

"Welcome," Dumbledore said, "to Diagon Alley."

Dumbledore seemed to hope that this would make an impression on the young priestess of Sekhmet, but she just looked ahead as if she wer on a business trip.

He handed her the list that had been in the invitation he had addressed to Harriet Potter. Her perfect eyes looked down again at the letter. Then, she unfolded a second piece of paper she had seen and read the list of things needed again.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Uniform

First-year students will require:

1\. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2\. One plan pointed hat (black) for day wear

3\. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4\. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please not all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

Course books

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginnings' Guid to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Draughts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by New Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

The girl turned as she heard a soft hooting come from Eeylops Owl Emporium.

"What do you use owls for?" She asked again with what Dumbledore thought at first must be keen interest.

"They can be companions or they can carry letters for you. They are very handy." He said, and then his eyes got that twinkle. "Perhaps you might like one?" He hoped he could get her excited about something from this world. But her eyes looked straight ahead.

"I don't have need of frivolities, Headmaster," she said. "Lead the way to what we need."

"We need Gringotts, first he said."

They walked to the largest building in the so-called alley. It was a white building that towered high into the sky. She looked at the golden doors and then saw goblins in uniform of scarlet and gold. She had only seen a goblin once when she was young in Egypt. She bowed in respect as she passed the goblin as they made their way inside. Then, they were facing a second pair of doors, silver with words engraved upon them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So, if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

The goblin bowed back as she passed through the silver doors and made her way into the vast marble hall. A hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large books, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Dumbledore and his charge made it to the counter.

"Morning," said Dumbledore with a twinkle to his eye at the free goblin. "We've come to withdraw funds from Harry Potter's vault."

The goblin was about to start making marks in his ledger and begin the process to do just then when he did a double shake of his head at the Headmaster.

"I have always heard that you were an eccentric one, Albus Dumbledore, but no one has ever accused you of trying to claim a treasure of someone else. You are attempting Line Theft."

"Nonsense," Professor Dumbledore said, "With a clear sweat going down his face. This person was Harry Potter, but now she is Harriet Potter."

"Surely, this is a jest," The goblin said.

"May I interject?" The young lady finally spoke up.

The goblin looked at her and nodded.

"The Headmaster has this idea," she started. "He thinks if I declare something to be then it shall be. My name is Anck-su-Namun. I would prefer to use the proper name for the thing that it is."

The goblin chuckled at the Headmaster. Then the goblin behind the counter started to turn his head to look for the next person of business.

"But surely –" Dumbledore said, "An inheritance test can be done –"

"Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," the goblin said with pure anger. "If –" then he turned to the girl. "What is your name again?"

"Anck-su-Namun," she said with a smile.

"If Anck-su-Namun is not named in the Potter will, then other family will be inheriting the vast Potter fortune." Then he stopped with a thought, "and if you have the key to that vault, then you should hand it over now. There is no reason since I have read the Potter will why you of all people should have that key."

The Headmaster's face turned redder as he pulled the key out of his robes and handed it over to the goblin.

"If there is no other business –" the goblin began.

But the girl cleared her throat.

"Excuse me, Master Goblin," she said with a smile, "by Divination I had ascertained that there would be trouble. So, I have brought something I think I can use to open a vault of my own."

She reached into a pocket in her purse and pulled out the most exquisite jewel.

Professor Dumbledore stared in wonder at the girl and the jewel, shaken that he was so outmaneuvered by an eleven year old girl.

The Goblin reached out his hand to take the jewel, "May I see?"

She nodded. He inspected it carefully.

"It will need to be inspected, but we normally have a contract we offer that grants the user funds from a possible vault until the full value of the jewel is given."

"How much?" She asked.

"One million galleons," he said, "would be a safe number, but I feel that this jewel is worth one hundred times more."

As he pulled out the document, he asked, "What name would you like this vault set up as?"

"Harriet Potter –" Dumbledore blurted out.

The Goblin waited for her response.

She turned with a dismissive look at the Headmaster. "Since, we use the proper name for things –" she said, "Open the vault in the name of Anck-su-Namun."

"Yes, miss –" he said. "Consider it done."

Once Anck-su-Namun was finished filing out the forms, she handed them back to the goblin. He handed her a card.

"This card represents your account with Gringotts. It will work with any business in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade."

Then, he handed her another card.

"This is what Muggles call a credit card." She took this with a queer look, but didn't say a word. "It will work in the Muggle world."

She nodded her head in understanding. She realized – a Muggle is a non-magic user.

With their business at Gringotts finished, a white-faced Albus Dumbledore led Anck-su-Namun out of the bank and back into Diagon Alley. Next, he walked them in Madam Malkin's. This time he remained in the back and stayed quiet.

A squat witch with a huge grin on her face stepped up to her as a chime went off at their entry.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said.

The girl nodded. "That is what I am told," she replied. "First year, and she added – I am short on a full wardrobe for a young lady of pureblood station. Would you be willing to help me with that as well?"

The woman led her to the back where she put her into a room and a robe was placed around her head and she began to pin it to the right length. She hummed quietly as she pinned and moved. Anck-su-Namun stood perfectly still as she waited for the woman to finish her work. After she was properly measured, she led her back to the front where she was given the choices of fabrics and a book on fashion.

Professor Dumbledore remained quiet as Anck-su-Namun looked over the fashions for someone of her age and station, chose colors and cloths and even a few items of jewelry. When it was all done, Madame Malkin spoke to Anck-su-Namun and the Headmaster. "To where should I have these items sent?"

"To the Leaky Cauldron," Dumbledore said. He looked at her and seemed to debate something in his head. "To the name of Anck-su-Namun."

The girl nodded as she finished paying. "They shall be delivered tomorrow, fair lady."

"Thank you," she replied.

Dumbledore led the girl out and down to a candy shop at the end of the street.

"Would you like some candy, Harriet?" He asked.

She leveled her eyes at him, but did not correct him.

"No thank you, Sir."

Dumbledore grabbed several chocolates and other of his favorite candies, then they were off again.

He led her to Flourish and Blotts. This store had shelves upon shelves of books from floor to ceiling. From there, he led her to a place where she bought her cauldron and her potion ingredients. Once outside the Apothecary, Dumbledore started to cheer up.

"Time to get you a wand," he said.

She followed him to a narrow shabby shop. Golden letters falling off the sign read Ollivanders: makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

When they walked in a tinkling bell somewhere in the depths of the shop rang through. Dumbledore led her to a single, spindly chair where they both sat to wait.

She felt the little sticks seeming to jump around them, eager to touch her hand.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice that did not surprise either Dumbledore or Anck-su-Namun.

The man looked at her and frowned. "Who do we have here?"

She was about to say her name when Dumbledore again chose to interpose his identity for her.

"This is Harriet Potter," he said, "The daughter of James and Lily Potter."

Mr. Ollivander studied her carefully.

"She has Lily Potter's eyes – that is for sure."

"She has the same color of hair as her father, but it is made up perfectly."

He nodded as if that was proof enough for his words. "It seems like yesterday when your mother was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. It was perfect for charms."

He examined her more closely.

"Your father," he said, "favored his mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. It had a little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well – " he chuckled as if he had said a joke. "The wand chooses the witch, so I misspoke."

She sat back at attention preparing herself for a long ordeal.

Mr. Ollivander turned to look at Dumbledore. "I never gave you a wand in your youth, Headmaster –" he said.

"We aren't here for me," the Headmaster chuckled. "Let's work on Miss Potter, please."

"Well, Miss Potter," he said. "What is your wand arm?"

She reached out her right hand and held it.

He measured her from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Ms. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another witch's wand."

She watched as the tape measure did its work all on its own. Mr. Ollivander began flitting around the shelves, taking down a few boxes.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Ms. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

"I understand the concept, Mr. Ollivander," she replied. She took the wand, waved it, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it right out of her hand.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try –"

She was about to try. She had just raised the wand, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it right back.

He went to the back and brought out many other boxes. The pile of the wands she had tried was getting higher and higher. Each time a wand was rejected, the crazy man seemed to become happier.

"We'll find the perfect match for you – I wonder, now – yes, why not – unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Anck-su-Namun knew it the minute she touched it. She felt warmth, like she felt from a stave made just for you. She raised the wand above her head and brought it down through the air. This brought streams of red and gold and blue and green flying as fireworks above her head. Dumbledore's eyes had that twinkle they had when something was going the way he wanted it to go.

Mr. Ollivander was jumping up and down like a little boy.

"Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well … how curious … how very curious."

He put her wand into its box and wrapped it into brown paper. Still he said, "Curious … curious …"

"There is a story here," Anck-su-Namun said, "Isn't there?"

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Ms. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, it's brother killed your parents."

Her eyes leveled at the wandmaker.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the witch, remember…. I think we must expect great things from you, Ms. Potter…. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."

Anck-su-Namun nearly shrugged. "I think I have enough history for today."

So, she paid the seven gold Galleons for her wand, Mr. Ollivander bowed, and he showed them out.

Dumbledore led her to the Leaky Cauldron.

"I have made arrangements for you to stay at the inn here," he said. "The innkeeper, whose name is Tom is expecting a young girl."

"Named Harriet Potter, right?" She asked with amusement.

The Headmaster chuckled. "You understand, my girl."

He led her back through the Alley to Leaky Cauldron. He tapped the wall outside the building and it moved until an archway appeared and allowed her into a tiny, grubby-looking pub.

She tried not to sneeze at the dusty dirty building. She didn't look at the old women in the corner or the young man sitting and drinking his small glass. Dumbledore walked right up to the man behind the bar.

"Tom, my boy," he said. "Let me introduce you to Harriet Potter."

"Oh yes," Tom replied. A few people peeked up to look at Dumbledore and the young girl with them, but did not connect the name Potter with a girl. They went back to their business.

"You have her room ready, my boy?" He asked.

Tom shook his head, eager to please.

"My stuff isn't coming for Harriet Potter, Headmaster," she said with an edged voice.

"Oh yes," the Headmaster said. "Her name is truly Anck-su-Namun – a difficult name to speak for sure. She has some items arriving from Madame Malkins under that name. They are to be brought to Miss Potter's quarters."

"It won't be a problem, Sir," He replied.

Dumbledore made his exit quickly after that. "I will see you on September 1st, my dear," and then he was out of the pub as quickly as possible.

"Let's show you to your room," he said. He helped her with her heavy carriage of books and equipment down the hall.

"I usually save these rooms for students this week. There are a few in rooms nearby, who travel from far away just to be near the Hogwarts Express."

She inclined her head a gesture of command that he lead the way. He led her to the back of the inn and down a hall to a room. Then, he took the key and opened it for her, pulling her stuff in. He led her to the room and helped her put away all her stuff.

"If I could be so bold, Miss," he said, "But you might do well to get a bottomless chest in the alley tomorrow."

"An easier way to carry all my stuff, I take it," she replied.

Tom grinned widely.

"Would you like me to bring some food up?" He asked.

"That would be delightful. Some of that bread, soup, and this butterbeer I was told about." She replied.

"Of course," he said as he began to turn around. "And one more thing – " he said. "What should I call you?"

"My name is Anck-su-Namun, Tom," she replied. "But if it is easier for you, I will permit you to call me Harriet."

"Thank you, Harriet," he said with a grin, then he turned the door behind him and walked away.

Anck-su-Namun sighed at the way she had been maneuvered into that name change and started to resign herself to being called Harriet Potter. Even though this was the case it still irritated her that the Headmaster had not worked with her on a name, but simply declared it to be. She would need to watch out for his maneuvers in the future. She wondered whose good he was watching out for.

She took her little stick out, the thing the wizards and witches of this time called a wand. She pointed it into the sky. She could feel it bond with her. She could feel something in it trace her somewhere else. She smirked, recognizing the crafty method of observing her magic. She put the wand back into its box. She pulled a small stick from her purse and with a twirl watched it stretch out into a long stave with the Uraeus on its end.

"Protect me – " she began to hiss as she moved the stave. "Allow none who would do me harm to enter," she continued to hiss." Then she pounded the stave to the ground. She would allow any to enter, but any who thought to do her harm would run into an invisible wall or be pushed gently but firmly out. Then, she slowly began to loosen her stiff clothes and prepare the table for the small dinner that was coming up.


	6. Chapter 6

Three girls and four boys are pushing carts with luggage and other strange items through the Muggle portion of King's Cross. Darkly tanned with perfect raven hair cascading down her sides and a glow of make-up separates the only first year in the group. The seven Hogwarts students arrive at King's Cross at half past ten with all their luggage.

The other six individuals are more than happy to lead the sweet sophisticated young lady past Platform 9 and to the invisible barrier of 9 ¾.

"Remember," a fifth year girl named Penelope Clearwater told her. "It appears like a cement beam in the Muggle world, but it is enchanted. You just walk forward and through."

Penelope helped all the other boys and girls younger than her time their walks through the Platform so that they did not attract any extra attention. Anck-su-Namun was the last in Penelope's group to go through.

"Go ahead," Penelope encouraged her.

She lifted her head, stared at the beam, saw the shimmer of the confounding magic and then smirked. She marched forward between the two platforms, reached the dividing barrier and she appeared in a different world.

She saw a scarlet engine looming next to the platform just starting to pack with people. She looked up and saw the sign: "Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock." When Penelope Clearwater walked through she smiled at the girl who was waiting patiently. "Go on, Harriet," she said. "I will see you at school." Then Penelope walked past.

Harriet gritted her teeth. She understood that her real name might be hard to say. She understood that some connection to a Pureblood family in England might relieve a few difficulties for her, but she was still offended at the clearly feminized male name.

She sighed as she drifted through the noisy clattering crowd. She stood behind Penelope in a line to load the train. She looked around to see the heads of students already hanging out of the windows of the compartments chattering at others around them. She pressed through the crowd and up the steps of the train, then made her way to the back. She found the first empty compartment at the end. She was pretty sure it wouldn't be empty for long.

She took her little wand out for the first time, held it in her fingers and quietly pointed at her bottomless trunk lifting it up into the shelf above it. Then, she checked the compartment for anything unusual or dirty. When she was satisfied, she smoothed her school robes, already on and sat down. She sat down in the middle of the compartment with the Potions book in her hands and began to make it look like she was reading. But she wasn't. She was discreetly watching everyone walking by.

She peeked over the book and saw a family of redheads marching in a line along the platform. As the youngest of them marched onto the train, she heard the mother shout,

"Ron, you've got something on your nose."

Anck-su-Namun's eyebrows tipped at that and then she went back to her reading. She barely read another passage from the Potions book when that same Ron knocked on the door of her compartment.

He looked around the compartment. He cleared his throat nervously. "I was wondering – " he began.

She looked up from her book and looked at him patiently.

Finally, he spit it out, "I heard that Harry Potter is on the train."

Her eyebrows raised at the comment and then she put the book down and opened her hands up. "No Harry Potter here," she said.

"No," Ron said turning bright red. "I meant to say –"

Her eyes narrowed. Did that old goat tell the redhaired boy? She narrowed her eyes as he stammered along further and searched his memories. Yes he had. She removed that memory – not what the English called Obliviate, but similar and adjusted the memory to speak about Harriet.

"Are you Harriet Potter?" he finally spit out.

Her head moved up and down ever so slowly. He goes on ahead. "Do you have the famous scar?"

Her eyes narrow at him. "Now, you are being rude," she clipped. "You haven't even given me your name and you are asking if I have some kind of injury?"

She did of course, but thanks to the cosmetic that Iset had taught her to make and apply no one would ever see the lightning bolt on her forehead.

"Ronald Weasley –" he blurted out at last. "I'm the sixth of seven children and all of my older brothers go to Hogwarts."

She smirked – so many boys ahead of him would explain why he was so rude.

"Bill and Charlie, the older ones," he continued, "have already left Hogwarts. Bill was Head Boy when he was here. Charlie was captain of the Quidditch team. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George – they mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks in school."

He took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. "You could say that I have a lot to live up to."

Harriet smiled at him. "Just be yourself and that will be enough –"

"Yes, right," Ron replied. And then he began to go onto a discussion on his favorite topic Quidditch, when she interrupted him.

"Excuse me, Ron?" she asked.

He stopped. "Yes?"

"You said that you are the sixth of seven. What about the seventh?" Harriet asked.

"Oh yeah," he chuckled dismissively, "My sister Ginny."

"Poor girl," Harriet muttered, but Ron didn't hear her as he went on to talk about Quidditch, the games his brothers played in their back yard and the Holy Head Harpies.

"Hey," he says when he sees her pick up her Potion book, "This is my rat Scabbers. Do you want to see me turn him yellow? Fred and George showed me how."

Harriet looked in disgust as he took out the most pathetic looking rat she had ever seen. It looked sad and it appeared to be missing a digit in its hand.

"You are going to do a spell that your brothers, Fred and George, the notorious tricksters showed you?" She asked.

He held his wand up to the rat, preparing to turn it yellow when the compartment door opened again. A bushy haired girl about their age opened the door, and peeked her head in.

"Has anyone seen a toad running around?"

Ron turns from his rat and glares at the girl. Harriet narrows her eyes at Ron. She stands up, and reaches out her hand.

"Hello there," she says, "I'm Harriet Potter."

The girl who looked about to hurry along to be helpful looked carefully at the girl. Harriet smirked as she could see the wheels turn in her head. Harriet Potter – but the history books tell me it was Harry Potter – and where is the famous lightning bolt scar?

Harriet said, "Would you permit me?"

She pulled her wand out smoothly from her robes concentrated on a loose toad and pulled. Suddenly, a toad appeared in her hand. She handed it to the girl.

"How did you do that?" She asked in wonder.

"Magic of course," she said with a smirk and she smiled at Ron and took her seat. She waved her hand to the open compartment. "You and your friend –"she pointed to the open seats, "are welcome to join us."

"Oh yes," the bushy-haired girl said making her way inside with her trunk, followed by a chubby nervous looking boy.

"Thank you –"he said with embarrassment.

She smiled in reply.

"I forgot my manners –"the bushy-haired girl interrupted again to a snort from Harriet's right. She inwardly wanted to hex the Cretan – the Weasley – who had not shown her any manners.

"My name is Hermione Granger –"she said.

"A Muggleborn –"Weasley spit out. Harriet turned quickly with a look of distaste on her mouth but gave her attention to Hermione. She reached out her hand, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Hermione." She replied.

She turns graciously to Neville who after one look at Ron Weasley decides to sit next to Hermione. He is carefully holding his toad in his hand.

"I'm Neville Longbottom," he said at her expectant face, "And this is my toad Trevor."

She smiled in turn at him.

He asked, "And you said you are Harriet Potter?" He asked stressing the T. He was awkwardly quiet for a few moments at the obvious difference to what history and others had said. Hermione meanwhile looks to Ronald. "Were you about to do some magic then?"

Harriet raised her hand. "No, you are not going to do that spell –"she glared at him.

Ron looked quite hurt at her intently. "Your brothers didn't teach you a spell to make him yellow. They taught you a spell that is going to explode on you, make you look foolish – or – "

"Make the rest of us yellow –"Neville finished the sentence for her.

She nodded at him smartly. Ron was about to raise his wand to do it anyway when the compartment door opened yet again and an old lady with a cart peeked in.

"Anyone want something from the trolley?" She asked.

Harriet asked for a package of Chocolate Frogs, and she shared one with each of those in her compartment with her. She had luckily been taught yesterday by one of the older students how to deal with it as she opened the package and swiftly grabbed the hopping terror and popped it into her mouth.

Hermione looked on in horror as she looked down at her card. Ron chuckled at her. "They aren't alive," he said. "They are just enchanted to do that.

It is finally Hermione who says what is on everyone's mind as they are each eating their frogs and examining their cards.

"Are you related to Harry Potter?" she asked.

Harriet laughed lightly at the question. "You cut right to the chase, don't you?" She replied. "Let's just say that not everything you read about the end of Voldemort is true."

Neville and Ron gasp at the casual speaking of You-Know-Who's name. She continued to smile at Hermione in turn. Hermione's face was twisted into a funny shape. Harriet couldn't help but feel the thoughts rolling from the girl's mind.

"It is in a book so it has to be true –"she was thinking.

The countryside flew by as Harriet saw from her peripheral vision the land around the train. The neat fields of the English countryside were replaced with woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

Hermione saw none of this. She continued to wrestle with the obvious historical inaccuracy of what Harriet had said to them.

She spoke up, "Harry Potter –"she began with an emphasis on the male name – "was in Modern Magical History and the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"He is –"she replied with a smirk. "And I'm not in any of those books."

"Well," Hermione continued on to a new subject, "Do any of you know what House you'll be in? I asked a few others I met. Personally I hope that I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad …"

She trailed off – having exhausted herself from her speech.

"Whatever House I'm in," Ron whispered, "I hope she's not in it."

Harriet whose ears were intended to hear that glared at the boy again. She was about to say, "You are a very rude boy and I'm not sure I want to be in your house," but Hermione changed the subject.

She asked, "What class are you looking forward to the most?"

Harriet had read through some of the books classes. After a moment she said with certainty. "I am looking forward to Potions. I have learned Charms, Defense against Dark Arts, the Stars, and Transfiguration, but next to nothing about Potions. I think that would be a challenge."

Hermione saw the book Harriet had out to read. "It looks difficult," she said.

Harriet replied. "I think it has so many building blocks that you have to be aware of. As I was reading this book, it isn't just about memorizing the ingredients and throwing them, but it is intricate work."

Ron snorted – again showing a lack of maturity.

Eventually, Hermione said, "I would have to agree. I am actually looking forward to Transfiguration. I think it is going to be so exciting to change things."

"Lots of studying there too," Harriet said.

"Studying!" Ron said. "I am just going to wave my wand and –"

Harriet scolded, "Not in here, you aren't." Then she turned to Hermione. "I think you would make a great study partner."

Hermione was very excited. "If you are sure –"

Harriet nodded and was about to say more when the compartment door opened again.

A slender boy with sleek white-blonde hair, cold grey eyes, and a pale complexion with sharp pointed features walked into the room. Harriet noticed immediately how his eyes barely looked down at the four inside of the compartment. He was followed by two other boys, giant young men.

"Is it true?" he began with a snooty voice, "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment."

Hermione looked at Harriet with a mischievous look on her face, but Harriet answered smoothly. "There is no Harry Potter here. But my name is Harriet Potter."

The boy looked at the young lady who clearly held herself as any good Pureblood of England would do. His mind – one which Harriet realized she could not read as easily as the others – was working on this information.

"Well," the boy went on, "this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," he said carelessly, "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron gave a slight cough and Harriet turned to look at him in disgust again. Draco turned to look at Ron.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Harriet had followed his eyes to Ron and felt that though the assessment was quite cruel, it was probably right.

Draco turned back to Harriet. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Miss Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harriet's, and she reached out and shook his hand. With a gentle smile, she said, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Draco," then she shook the hand of each of the others, who she insisted must give her their first names: first Gregory and then Vincent.

Ron who had moved a little to avoid getting too close to Draco didn't realize his mistake. Draco took that moment to subtly assume his spot in the compartment. Greggory and Vincent remained standing outside. He looked at them, "Go tell Parkinson where we are and keep her company. I will see you at school."

Harriet smiled at him as he began to talk. "This is not what I expected, Miss Potter," he said smartly. "My father told me that Harry Potter would be on the train."

"He didn't tell you about Harriet Potter," Hermione answered for him.

Draco chuckled at the interruption, and then he looked at her and Neville. First, he addressed Neville, "You must be a Longbottom, Neville right?" He nodded at Draco in turn. "Draco Malfoy," he drawled. Then he turned at last to Hermione with a slight look of distaste. "You are – " he was about to say something else but quickly changed the word, "a Muggleborn, correct?"

Hermione nodded also. She reached over and took his hand. Draco reached past Harriet smoothly and shook it. Hermione said, "Hermione Granger –"

"A pleasure –"Draco said as he quickly removed his hand. He turned back to Harriet to keep the conversation with her. "So, what class are you looking forward to the most?"

Harriet picked up her Potions Textbook. "I don't have much experience with Potions and I am looking forward to learning."

Draco's eyes glazed over. "Oh, you're going to love Potions," he said. "I'm also looking forward to that class, because my god-father is teaching it." Harriet looked at him with a query in her face.

"My God-father is the Potions Master at Hogwarts, Professor Severus Snape –"he said with pride.

Hermione quickly threw herself back into the conversation asking Draco about the other teachers and getting Draco's impressions of each of them. Neville and Harriet seemed to sit back and soak it all on – though Draco appeared to struggle between staying put and running out as fast as he could.

Ron rudely interrupted again. "You had better watch it with Malfoy's type, Harriet!"

Harriet turned darkly at him. "I've heard all about his family," Ron continued. "They were some of the first to come back to the Light after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it of course. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go to the Dark Side."

Hermione looked at Draco and then Harriet and then Ron, seeing the darkening looks on Draco and Harriet's face and the completely dumb look on Ron's.

"Don't you think," Hermione said to Weasley, "That you should get your robes on. From what I've read this trip is almost over. And you know you shouldn't be fighting. You'll get in trouble if you start a fight before we even get there!"

"I'm not fightin!" said Ron scowling at her. "Would you mind the rest of you leaving so I can tell Harriet some important things she needs to know?"

Harriet turned to Ron. "I believe, Weasley –" she said with a smirk "that you are behaving childishly. By the way, there is dirt still on your nose. Didn't your mother tell you to clean it off."

Ron stood up and glared at Harriet, Draco, and Hermione. He only addressed "Neville" as he stormed out of the compartment. She watched him go shaking her head.

"They will let just about anyone into Hogwarts these days – "Draco drawled.

Before anyone could comment further a voice echoed throughout the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

Shortly after this Ronald Weasley had pushed himself back into the compartment, strangely determined to be present every step of the way for Harriet Potter. Then after a few more minutes the train started coming to a stop. Quickly people started to push their way through. Vincent and Gregory reappeared out of nowhere and fell in between Harriet and Weasley as they traveled off the train. Harriet didn't notice the subtle move to separate her from the other kids. Harriet followed behind Draco and then went toward a booming voice: "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!"

A big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

"Follow me now," he said at the faces. "Mind yer step. Follow me, firs' years."

Slipping and stumbling, they followed the giant down a steep, narrow path. It was dark, but Harriet followed the smooth steps of Draco ahead of her. She heard a sniffle a little ways back from Neville – the other boy in her compartment. Apparently, he lost his toad again. She couldn't help him right now.

"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the giant who led them called from up ahead, "jus' round this bend here."

Then, Harriet heard a loud "Oooooh!"

The narrow path had opened onto the edge of a great black lake. Then, perched on top of a high mountain on the other side of that lake with windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with turrets and towers.

Harriet felt impressed for the first time since she had arrived in England. She had been inside before when Dumbledore had brought her back from Egypt. But she had not seen it like this. Then, it had seemed so dark and dank. But from here on the other side of the lake, it was beautiful.

"No more'n four to a boat!" The big man called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Draco ably helped Harriet inside and then a dark-haired girl who appeared out of nowhere with a pug-nose and a blonde with a haughty look were helped in after her. Lastly, Draco made his way inside. Harriet saw a sad look of disappointment on Hermione's face and a look of righteous anger on Ronald Weasley's face.

"Crabbe –" he said, "Goyle –" Draco said to the two who stood behind her other companions on the train. "You two could fit in your own boat. Scram!"

Harriet adjusted herself and introduced herself first to Pansy Parkinson then to Daphne Greengrass. She was just getting to know the two when that booming voice spoke again.

"Right then – FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Harriet became silent along with Pansy, Daphne, and Draco. She stared up at the great castle overhead. Quiet came over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled the giant as the first boats reached the cliff. Harriet bent her head with all the others and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.

There was another commotion. Hermione had found Neville's toad and was handing it back to him. Harriet heard Pansy sniff in derision, "Only idiots get toads." Harriet just stared straight ahead.

The giant man raised his giant fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


	7. Chapter 7

The door swung open, and Harriet saw Minerva McGonagall again. The lack of light made the woman seem taller and more intimidating than she already was in normal life. Her stern face took all the first years in. Harriet already had the sense that this one was not someone to be messed with.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was as large as the Hall where Pharaoh received his guests. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harriet could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school must already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would have usually done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your Houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your House will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your House, sleep in your House dormitory, and spend free time in your House common room.

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule-breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Harriet and Daphne looked at each other quietly, but didn't seem all that worried or concerned. Pansy snickered at someone else's discomfort. Draco yawned.

Then, several jumped about a foot in the air – several in the room screamed.

"What the –?"

Harriet turned to see someone about to run into her and turned her shoulder so that they could fall elsewhere – Ronald Weasley again. Then, she saw what had frightened him and some of the others – ghosts, lots of them were flying right through the wall. But they had little concern for the first years.

They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance – "

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?

Nobody responded.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old House, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Harriet fell behind as Draco and Pansy stepped forward. Harriet looked and found her study partner and slipped a hand into hers, squeezing reassuringly and smiling. They made their way through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

The dark Hall was lit up by thousands of candles – like the Temple of Sekhmet at the Goddess' high festival. There were four long tables filled with the rest of the students, sitting down. The tables were laden with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students – the teachers sat in the long table behind them. The hundreds of faces stared at them and they looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver.

Harriet watch as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was frayed and extremely dirty. She grimaced at the thought of sticking that on her clean hair.

Everyone was now staring at the hat. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth – and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong to Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

If you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward once again holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blond pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause –

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harriet saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at Hannah.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin.

"An enchanted hat – "she thought as she watched the proceedings. It was another rare moment of being impressed with this Hogwarts.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, she saw that the hat shouted out the House at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Her study partner squeezed her hand one last time then jumped up and almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat.

Weasley – the boy who had said he didn't want to be in the same House as Hermione Granger groaned.

Next was Neville – who now had his toad tucked into a pocket, a spell seeming to hold it there. He nearly fell on his way to the stool – to the delight of Draco who had stepped up next to her again. Then, the hat was on his head. It took a long time to decide with Neville. Finally, it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Draco brushed past her right after that one. The hat barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Draco went to join Crabbe and Goyle.

Not many were left.

Moon went Slytherin, Nott – Slytherin, Pansy Parkinson – Slytherin. A pair of twin girls, Patil was the last name – Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. Then, she heard it –

"Potter, Harriet!"

As Harriet stepped forward, she could hear whispers all throughout the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"Not Harry Potter? I thought Harry was a boy, but she is all girl?"

Harriet didn't hear anything else as the hat dropped over her eyes – all she saw was the black inside of the hat.

"Hmmm," said a sudden voice in her ear. "Difficult. Very difficult. Would you mind opening your mind so I can read it?"

Harriet focused on letting go. She knew that what this hat saw could not hurt her.

"Very intelligent – yes very. Ravenclaw's intelligence would fit, but you don't desire knowledge as a thing in and of itself." The hat was quiet as it looked for more. Then, he launched. "You are great – so close to greatness. Just a push! With your natural cunning and your ability to deal with political situations - But no, I don't believe you seek Greatness. Loyalty? Not so strong there!" He continued to think. As the hat thought Harriet was sure she could hear whispers begin to start up in the Hall.

"Hat Stall –"someone said.

She heard no more as the hat said. "But you are just – so very just. You want what is right and whatever the cost. Just like Godric,"

The last word was shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

She took off the hat and adjusted to the sudden light again. She knew she had just about entered into Slytherin. She didn't think that would have been bad. She liked Draco and Daphne especially, and Pansy could have been crafted. But she smiled as she made her way straight toward Hermione at the table. Several stood up and shook her hand. She looked at them with confusion. Two twins also stood up and yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!"

Harriet rolled her eyes and instead squeezed Hermione's hand and sat down next to her. For the first time she peeked up at the High Table. She saw the giant, whose name she remembered was Hagrid giving her a huge grin and thumbs up. She didn't understand why he cared. Then she saw Dumbledore. There was a twinkle in his eye, and at that she groaned. That never meant anything good. Obviously, this is what he expected of her. She saw a tiny young man – barely old enough to be a Professor she thought.

She had not seen the last few sorted, so she looked up. There were only four left.

"Thomas, Dean," a black boy even taller than Ron heard, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Turpin, Lisa," was "RAVENCLAW!" Then she looked on Weasley. It took only a second and she heard, "GRYFFINDOR!" She turned to whisper in Hermione's ear. "Should have known."

The boy who nearly shook her arm up said, "Well done, Ron, excellent."

Harriet barely heard "Zabini, Blaise" become "SLYTHERIN." Then Professor McGonagall was rolling up the scroll and taking the Sorting Hat away.

Ron settled in right across from her and Hermione. "You made it, Harriet," he said with a big grin. "I knew there was no way a Potter could have been anything but Gryffindor."

Harriet smiled at him, but said nothing, instead she looked up ignoring Ron's further attitude to see Albus Dumbledore getting to his feet. He beamed at all of the students, opened his arms up wide – pleased that they were all there.

"Welcome!" he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harriet and Hermione exchanged confused looks.

"Is he – crazy?" she asked Ron uncertainly.

"Crazy?" said Ron. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! Maybe a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harriet?"

Suddenly, the dishes in front of her were now piled with food: meets of all kinds, potatoes roasted boiled and fried, puddings, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup and for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs. Harriet and Hermione took a little bit of everything, but not too much. She didn't need to eat a lot. But it was surprisingly good.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly, watching as Harriet ate some peas and carrots on her fork.

Harriet peeked up. "I am sorry for you, dear," she said.

The ghost said, "I haven't eaten for nearly five hundred years. I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy – "the ghost began stiffly, but sandy-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

The ghost looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So – new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Championship this year? Gryffindors have been gone so long without winning. Slytherins have got the Cup six years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable – he's the Slytherin ghost."

Harriet looked over at the Slytherin table and saw the Bloody Baron – as he was called. He was sitting up above the new students there, with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. Harriet saw Malfoy and wondered for just a moment what it would be like over there with Daphne and Pansy. None of them were like Weasley here.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Seamus thinking of the Bloody Baron.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

When everyone had eaten as much as they could, the remains of the food faded from the plates, leaving the plates as sparkling clean as when they started. And a moment later desserts appeared. There were blocks of ice cream in every flavor, apple pies, treacle tarts, chocolate eclairs and jam doughnuts, trifle, strawberries, something called Jell-O, rice pudding …

Harriet along with Hermione tried the treacle tart. Harriet asked about Hermione's parents.

"Oh, they are dentists," she replied.

Harriet had a strange look that clearly showed she did not understand. "Dentists are doctors who take care of your teeth. If you don't take care of them, you can get cavities or worse –" Hermione said.

"What about your parents, Harriet?"

She smiled sadly. "They have been dead for so long –" she said. "I don't remember what either of them did."

"Oh –" Ron said with his mouth full of apple pie, "Your da was an Auror."

Harriet grimaced as a spray of Apple pie hit her face.

"I am wondering if I should have taken the hat's offer of Slytherin right now," she told Hermione.

Hermione looked with an open mouth. "It offered me Ravenclaw."

Just then, Hermione turned to Ron's older brother, Percy Weasley – the one who had nearly torn her arm off.

"I do hope they start right away –" she told him. "There is so much to learn, and I'm particularly interested in Transfiguration, you know, turning something into something else, of course, it's supposed to be very difficult – "

"Actually," Percy replied, "You'll be starting small, just matches into needles and that sort of thing."

Harriet was listening to all of the conversation around her when she felt an attempt at her mind. She turned her eyes very slowly and narrowed them on a hook-nosed teacher.

"Who is that?" she pointed at him to Percy Weasley.

"That's Professor Quirrell," Percy replied smartly, "And right next to him is Professor Snape. And Quirrell looks nervous, doesn't he? That's because everyone's nervous around Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, even though he doesn't want to – everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harriet peered at this Snape. He looked greasy and he certainly had the look of a Dark Arts practioner, wearing all black. But she wasn't sure yet.

But it wasn't that Professor Snape who tried to enter her mind – it was the weak looking Professor Quirrell. Her eyes narrowed at him.

At last, the desserts disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall went silent.

"Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

He looked in the direction of Ron's other brothers, the twins.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harriet turned and whispered to Hermione. "In a room full of boy, that's an invitation. There will have been seven in there by the end of the weekend."

"That's odd," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "He usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere – the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harriet noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. She had a bad feeling.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And several students bellowed to different tunes:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hogggy Warty

Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

Just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot."

The song was dismal. There were different speeds and different tunes. The Weasley twins were singing a solo by the end as they sang a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the chattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Harriet looked at the portraits that moved. She focused as Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases until a bundle of walking sticks floating in midair above them stopped them.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years. "A poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves – show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. Harriet chuckled as everyone but her ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zoom away, rattling coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled through it – Neville needed a leg up – and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory. Harriet and Hermione climbed the spiral staircase and they found that their beds. Harriet looked at the deep, red, velvet curtains of the four-poster beds. Their trunks had already been brought up. Harriet and Hermione didn't talk as they, Lavender Brown, and Parvati Patil changed into their nightgowns and fell into bed.

"Good night," was the call between the girls. Harriet took a moment to catalog her thoughts, remembering every first year, several of the other kids, and then was able to peacefully sleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Harriet was the center of so much attention as she walked between Gryffindor Tower and the Great Hall.

"There she is!"

"She has the face of an angel!"

"Is she related to Harry Potter?"

Everywhere she went it seemed the whispers followed her and got ahead of her. It was ridiculous, but Harriet had learned long ago from High Priestess Iset not to let the crowds or regular people bother her.

So, she hummed quietly on her way to her first class:

"Hush my dear … hush don't cry

Take that thought … hush it out

File it away … put it into a jar

Protect your emotions

Protect your mind…"

Hermione who was walking next to her said, "What's that?"

"Oh," Harriet replied. "It is just a little song I learned growing up. It helps me deal with things that bother me. It is what Iset used to teach me Occlumency."

Hermione looked at her new friend in wonder. "Occlumency? Isn't that a very advanced skill?"

Harriet chuckled. "You English make it into an advanced skill, but it can actually be quite simple. I will teach you during one of our study sessions."

Thanks to the combined efforts of Harriet and Hermione neither one was late for the very first class – Charms.

Charms took place with Professor Filius Flitwick. He was a diminutive little wizard, but Hogwarts a History said that he had some Goblin blood in him that made him short. That morning he took roll call on top of a pile of books. The very first lesson was a lecture on the basics of wand movement and pronunciation of incantations.

Ron Weasley who sat behind her kept trying to whisper in her ear.

"This is boring. Why do we have to take notes?"

"What are you doing late? Want to play a game of Wizarding Chess?"

It continued until Harriet whispered very quietly a wandless muffling charm on the wizard. Then, she was able to pay attention better.

Harriet's only difficulties were to keep Weasley from the attention he kept giving her but she didn't want and learning the new pronunciations. She wasn't sure if they would accept Egyptian phrases and words.

Transfiguration was the second class they had. It was the class Hermione had really been looking forward to. But quickly they all learned that this class was very serious. The Professor Minerva McGonagall whom Harriet had met when Professor Dumbledore had brought her back from Egypt was a very strict teacher. She inspired a healthy fear even in Ronald Weasley.

"Transfiguration," she said with her stern demeanor, "Is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. Harriet thought to suggest that she could do that too, but thought better of it.

Professor McGonagall said, "It will be a while before I will permit any of my students to do that complicated bit of Transfiguration."

Instead, She had them take a lot of complicated notes. Finally they were given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle.

On her first try Harriet looked at the match and watched it bend and turn into a needle. She didn't use the incantation or any flick of a wand.

"Well," Professor McGonagall said, "That is quite impressive, Miss Potter, fifty points to Gryfinndor."

She also gave a rare smile to Harriet's friend, Hermione who by the end of the class was the only other student able to make the change.

Harriet was eager to prove herself in Defense against the Dark Arts. Back in Egypt, she had learned how to ward off dark fairies and counter powerful jinxes. She had hopes that she could show her Shield Charm, but Defense against the Dark Arts was a disappointment.

The room was heavy in the odor of garlic – a sign that Professor Quirrell was trying to ward against some particularly nasty Dark Creature. When he walked in and she felt the first prickle of another attempt to enter her mind, she ended up focusing on Quirrell's turban. There was something fishy going on with that.

Defense against the Dark Arts was simply a matter of reading the book – during class and taking notes on the assigned reading.

Astronomy for obvious reasons took place on a tower at midnight. Whoever made the schedule did not make it convenient for those who had classes the next day. They would trudge up the steps of the Astronomy tower with their telescopes and they would look into those scopes making their own star charts and memorizing the position of the stars in conjunction with the time of year. This was difficult for Harriet who had learned the Stars of the Southern Hemisphere and had learned the names of these stars in Egyptian.

Herbology was difficult for the same reason. She had been around plenty of magical plants before, but the plants she had learned did not grow in England and their names again were different. She was at square one with the rest of the class. But Hermione with her notes and nearly photographic memory and Neville with his natural knack for magical plants, she was performing well.

Finally, the day for Double Potions arrived. When Harriet and Hermione left for potions, they had to travel deep into the dungeons of Hogwarts not far from what many thought was the place where Slytherin had their Common room.

Potions began just as Charms began. Professor Snape flowed his way up to the front of the class and pulled out his class list and started with roll call. After Harriet answered, "Potter, Harriet,"

"Ah, yes," he responded, "Harriet Potter. Our new – celebrity."

Draco Malfoy – former friend of Harriet along with Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind their hands. Harriet made a note in her head that she would not just easily forgive such a temperamental fool. When Snape finished calling the names, he looked up at the class. His eyes were black with no warmth – cold and empty.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but you could catch every word. He had a gift, like Professor McGonagall of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.

Harriet and Hermione sat at the edge of their seats desperate to start proving that neither were dunderheads.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harriet scrunched her eyes and thought back to what she had read. She was pretty certain that was not in the first year's Potion book. Hermione's hand shot into the air next to her.

"I don't know, sir," she replied.

Snape's lips curled into a sneer.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything."

Hermione's hand remained high, but he ignored her focusing on Harriet.

"Let's try again, Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without leaving her seat. Harriet could feel laughter behind her, but calmed herself with breathing exercises and again searched her mind. She wished she had more time.

"I don't now, Professor."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Harriet looked up into his cold eyes. "I promise to do better, Professor –" she said deciding to try humility to work with the Professor.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

Harriet found this one in her mind. She had read that book.

"Professor, there is no difference. They are the same plant. I believe it also goes by the name of Aconite."

Harriet waited patiently as Snape studied her carefully.

"One out of three questions, Potter –" he said. Then, he turned with a wicked grin to Ron. "Well, why aren't you copying that down?"

There was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment.

When the notes were taken, Snape put them all into pairs and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. Harriet was paired with Hermione. Snape swept his long black cloak, watching them all weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs. He criticized many of the Gryffindors, but she even heard him criticize Pansy and Blaise from the Slytherins. The only one he didn't criticize was his godson, Draco.

"Look at the perfect way, Malfoy here," he crooned, "has stewed his horned slugs."

Then suddenly, clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville a few tables away had somehow managed to melt Seamus' cauldron into a twisted blob, and their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while, Neville who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing away the spilled potion with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Dean Thomas. Then he rounded on Seamus Finnegan and Ron Weasley who had been working next to Neville.

"You – Weasley – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's a point lost for Gryffindor."

Ron opened his mouth to argue, but got kicked by Seamus.

As they turned their potion in, Hermione and Harriet had gotten an E. It was the second highest grade in the class next to Draco's.

"It is so unfair," Hermione complained to Harriet as they walked up the steps. "Our potion was just as good as Malfoys."

Harriet replied, "From what the older Gryffindors said, 'No Gryffindor ever gets an E from Snape on the first day.'"

After a few weeks of school, Harriet and Hermione really only had complaints about two teachers: Binns – a ghost who taught History of Magic and Quirrell who taught Defense against the Dark Arts. The rest of the teachers were fantastic. Snape could be cold and even cruel, but the two worked ahead and cross-referenced their notes and were able to put together Potions that kept exceeding expectations.

Harriet and Hermione loved to spend their free times between classes in the Library or in the Common Room. They always checked their notes cross-referencing each other's notes for mistakes or something that was missing. This is often where Hermione excelled over Harriet. She just seemed to do better as staying focused and taking notes. She also seemed to get less attention, Harriet thought.

They studied for their classes, but sometimes, even Hermione enjoyed just talking. Soon, she learned a great deal about her new friend.

"So, you didn't grow up in England?" Hermione asked her.

Harriet shook her head no. "I grew up in Egypt, and my name really isn't Harriet Potter. It was Dumbledore's idea to call me that."

Hermione thanks to Harriet's influence was less and less likely willing to accept anything from a book or from an authority figure just because they declared it to be so. She was becoming more and more open to other things.

"What was your name?" she asked quietly.

"Anck-su-Namun," Harriet responded quietly. Harriet did her best to explain what happened when her father and mother died and when the Dark Lord had cast his killing curse on her.

Hermione was willing to accept it, mostly because Harriet showed an ability to do powerful complicated magic – something someone her age shouldn't be able to do.

There really was only one thing about her past that Harriet withheld from Hermione – the way she had surrendered to Imhotep. She was too ashamed to tell anyone that.

Hermione had many questions. Hermione was eager to learn of Occlumency and Legilemency.

"I'm willing to start with Occlumency," Harriet said. "and I think you won't have too many difficulties there – you seem to do the memory portions of it on your own. But I won't teach you Legilemency until you are truly able to protect your mind."

Right at that moment, Draco Malfoy strolled in with Crabbe and Goyle.

"Potter –" he said.

Harriet turned. "Oh, hello Draco," she smiled. "Congratulations on becoming Slytherin. It happened just as you said it would."

Draco looked down on her his neck not even bending down to look at her. "Yes, well, Slytherin is the best –" he said, "And I can only have the best. You however – seem to be willing to accept lesser things."

Harriet narrowed her eyelashes at him. She really was going to force him to work hard to regain her friendship.

"Though," Draco drawled, "If you were to stop being found in the presence of a Mudblood –"

Harriet looked at him, clearly not understanding what he was saying. Draco just rolled his eyes.

Harriet shrugged her shoulders casually. "Her blood isn't what is important, Draco, but her heart and her mind. If she knows something that I can learn, I really don't care who or what she is."

"As I said –" Draco replied and then turned away disgusted. He followed Crabbe and Goyle out of the Library. Harriet meanwhile turned to her best friend. "Boys –" she whispered as she smiled encouragingly at her.

As classes continued, Harriet continued to have little run-ins like that with Draco Malfoy. Those run-ins tended to happen either in the Great Hall, the Library or before or after Potions. And the run-ins became less and less as Draco grew bored of trying to get under her skin. He soon found that enjoyed tormenting Weasley easier.

Harriet often heard Ron complaining about Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle and the slimy snakes. Harriet and Hermione just kept their noses to the books and stayed out the rivalry. But that was about to soon become more difficult.

As Harriet and Hermione were studying at their favorite table in the Common room Ron dropped himself in the chair next to Harriet.

"Those slimy snakes –" he said for what must have been the hundredth time.

Harriet and Hermione smiled at each other as Ron seemed to start another one of his rants but then they put their heads back down into their books.

"I was so looking forward to learning how to fly, but now we have to take our Flying Lessons with them, starting on Thursday."

Hermione glared on Ron. Harriet just chuckled.

"It should be entertaining then at least."

In the Great Hall on the morning of those flying lessons, Harriet could hear Malfoy talk about flying all the way across the Hall. When she passed Daphne in the hallway, she heard Draco talking about flying and she gave a look of sympathy to Daphne who rolled her eyes at Draco's speech.

"It is a shame," he drawled, "That first years never get on the House Quidditch teams. You know that I can fly good enough to escape those flying tin machines of Muggles."

But Draco wasn't the only one who seemed to be an expert on flying. As Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Ronald Weasley would not be outdone. He told Harriet and even Hermione more than once that he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom.

Neville like Hermione and Harriet had never been on a broomstick in his life. His grandmother would never let him near one. Harriet loved Neville as a brother, but she whispered to Hermione: "I think that is for good reason. The poor boy is always having accidents."

Hermione was absolutely nervous about flying – just like Neville. It wasn't in a book, and Harriet was uncertain too. She could fly – without a broom, but wasn't sure if she might look foolish flying on a stick with bristles at the end of it.

Near the end of breakfast, a barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed Harriet and Hermione a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh …" His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "… you've forgotten something … "

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Ron who for some reason had sat next to Harriet again was close enough to see everything. He jumped to his feet, apparently looking for an excuse to fight Malfoy.

It was a good thing that Professor McGonagall who could spot trouble real quickly was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At three-thirty that afternoon, Harriet, Hermione, and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the forbidden forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. And then, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harriet glanced down at his broom. It was old and some of the twigs stuck out at odd angles.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'UP!"

"Up!" everyone shouted.

Harriet's broom jumped into her hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hermione Granger's had simply rolled over on the ground, and Neville's hadn't moved at all.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Ron crowed when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground hard," said Madam Hooch. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two – "

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle – twelve feet – twenty feet. Harriet could see his scared white face looking down at the ground, as it fell away, then saw him gasp, then slip sideways off the broom and –

WHAM – a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Harriet heard her mutter. "Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "it's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun as he held it up.

Harriet said loudly to her fellow Gryffindors. "I think Malfoy forgot that the Remembrall is Neville's –"

Hermione chuckled. "It is turning scarlet."

Draco's head turned red. Harriet pressed the advantage. "Hand it on over," she said, "I will remember to give it back to him."

But Malfoy leapt onto his broomstick and took off. Harriet looked up into the sky, impressed. He could fly on that broom. "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harriet just sat there watching. But Ronald grabbed at his broom.

"No!" shouted Hermione. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us in trouble."

Harriet watched as Draco held the Remembrall aloft. Then, he found a bird's nest in a tree and Draco put the Remembrall in. He looked around one last time then brought his broom back down to the earth.

No sooner had Draco returned to the ground then Professor McGonagall was stomping out of the castle. "Madam Hooch told me that you lot might be up to trouble. I am here to watch you until she returns."

Ron said, "Malfoy took Neville's Remembrall."

"It's up in a nest in that tree," Hermione pointed.

Professor McGonagall pointed at the tree and said, "Accio Remembrall –" and the little ball flew right to her hand.

She stared at all of them until Madam Hooch was able to return from the Hospital wing.

When everyone was situated with brooms in hand, she said it again, "Now, when I blow my whistle, and only when I blow my whistle,"

"Only after I blow my whistle, do you kick off from the ground, hard." Then she added, "Keep your brooms steady, rise those few feet and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two – one."

Harriet sat her bottom on her broomstick and kicked hard to the ground. Up, she soared into the air. Air rushed through her air, and her robes whipped out behind her. What a feeling! There was a rush of fierce joy as she realized that she'd been able to do something without being taught.

Not everyone had done as well. Draco had made it up. Parvarti Patil had gone up, but not quite as well. Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle and made it up, but not far from the ground. No other Gryffindors.

"Come back down, everyone," said Madam Hooch.

There were a few advanced instructions for those who had been able to lift up, and after an hour, they were marching back to the dorms.

All the talk was about Quidditch for the dining hall that night. But Ron was steaming. Harriet poked Hermione. "He's going to do something.

Sure enough, Ron jumped up and stomped over to the Slytherin table. You could hear him clearly at the Gryffindor table.

"Malfoy," Ron shouted, "What you did to Neville's Remembrall was ridiculous. I ought to –"

At that moment, Draco stood up along with Greg and Vince. "You ought to do what, Weasel?" he sneered.

"You think you are so brave –" Ron replied, "With your little friends by your side."

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," Draco replied. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's dual. Wands only – no contact." Ron looked a little nervous. "What's the matter, Weasely? Mum not let you stay up that late?"

Hermione stood up and Harriet decided to go with her to try to restrain her. "That is breaking curfew, Malfoy." Neville came up suddenly and with his hand in a bandage said, "I'll be his second."

At this Pansy let out hysterical laughter. Harriet smirked at how ridiculous this was. She took Hermione's arm, and she whispered. "They are boys. It's all bluster. Let's get away before someone puts an end to this. Harriet walked Hermione back to their table, but Hermione watched carefully the interchange.

Weasley continued, "Who is your second, Malfoy?"

Draco looked at Crabbe, then Goyle. Harriet couldn't read his mind, but guessed he probably didn't know which would be better.

"Crabbe," he said at last. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

Ron and Neville walked back to the table. Hermione had her hands on her hips and she was in rare form.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you said, Ron –"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered back.

"You mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

Harriet spoke up. "You do know Malfoy isn't going to show up, right?"

Ron narrowed his eyes. "He is tricking you to go to the Trophy room. I've heard your brothers complain that Filch is always in there cleaning those trophies. Malfoy is getting you to go to the one place Filch is sure to be."

Ron just glared at the two of them. "None of your business, Potter. Goodbye!"


	9. Chapter 9

September ended with a quiet peace among the first years of Gryffindor. The boys were refusing to speak to Harriet or Hermione – neither one of them really minded. The girls were minding their own business with homework and school. It didn't help that Ron and Neville were spending nearly every night those few weeks after their run out into the Trophy room. Harriet had been right. Draco didn't show and Ron didn't like the fact that the girls had been right.

Harriet continued to do great in school. The Charms and Transfiguration were easy for her. There she provided the help for Hermione. But when it came to Potions and Herbology, Hermione was constantly tutoring Harriet. Harriet didn't seem to have the patience for Potions. But she with Hermione's help learned how to treat the ingredients and they were getting mostly E's in Professor Snape's class, even an O or two.

Defense against the Dark arts was disturbing. There was a connection between that turban of Quirrell's and the dark spot she had slammed behind heavy Occlumency shields. Then, Halloween came.

That morning, they woke to the smell of baking pumpkin floating through the corridors. Professor Flitwick felt that the group was ready to start making objects fly. That was something they all were eager to do since they saw hi make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs for practice. Harriet's partner was Parvati at this time – to her frustration. Ron was partnered with Hermione.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books. "Swish and flick, remember swish and flick. And saying the words properly is very important too – never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Harriet was able to do it without words or wand. But she swished and flicked, because she was bored.

Ron at the next table was having trouble with his.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Harriet heard Hermione snap. "It's Wing-gar-dium Levi-o-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled back.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Her feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"That's Potter and Granger doing it!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone watch these two do it."

Ron was in a bad mood after class. As Harriet raced to catch up with her best friend, she heard Ron say to Seamus, "It's no wonder no one can stand her, she's a nightmare, honestly."

"Ronald Weasley," Harriet shouted. But suddenly she stopped glaring at the boy because she heard a sniffle and saw Hermione rush away.

"Hermione – " she shouted jumping up to chase after her. "Wait for me."

"Leave her be," Ron said. "She doesn't really have friends."

Harriet was nearly late for the next class because she couldn't find Hermione anywhere. It was finally in the girls' bathroom about an hour before the Halloween feast. She was crying.

"Hermione," Harriet called out.

"You don't have to bother, Harriet," she sniffled back. "I know you aren't really my friend."

Harriet walked in farther until she saw her sniffling on the floor. Harriet slowly moved to the floor, kneeling down in front of her.

"Hermione – " she said softly. "I go with you everywhere. You're my only friend. Don't you know this?"

Hermione stopped sniffling and looked up, her eyes red with a wreck. Harriet rushed into the arms of Hermione and held her tightly.

"Oh Hermione," Harriet said holding her close. "You can't believe a word from that dunderhead."

Hermione sniffled a little and seemed to cheer up as she hugged Harriet tight.

"Let's get to the feast."

Hermione shook her head. "I can't go like this."

Harriet smiled back. "Of course you can't."

Harriet led Hermione to the mirror and using some water and a towel, cleaned up her face. Then, she stood behind Hermione and pulled her bushy hair back and tied it with a ribbon in her purse. Then, she came around and pulled out her make-up. She brushed and worked her Egyptian cosmetic magic. Then, she was pulling the bushy hair out of the ribbon and started to comb it and tie it with several bows. When Hermione finally looked in the mirror she almost started crying again.

"Harriet," she said. "Look what you did to me."

Harriet wrapped her arms around her and smiled behind her back. "I only brought out what was on the inside. Now, let's go to that feast and knock 'em dead."

Harriet was pulling Hermione into the Great Hall just as food was starting to fill the plates at the table. Hermione and Harriet marveled at the thousands of live bats fluttering from wall to ceiling. They were barely getting started to a baked potato when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll – in the dungeons – thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "Lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!"

Percy was in his element.

"Follow me! Stick together, first year! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

Hermione and Harriet hold hands as they make their way back up the staircases and toward Gryffindor Tower – far away from a troll in the dungeons.

"Pig snout," Percy said as he shuffled everyone inside. Hermione and Harriet sat by the door. "Thanks" she said to Harriet again. "You're a great friend."

"So are you," Harriet replied. Harriet and Hermione rushed to get plates of food to finish off the feast.

As the weeks went on Hermione and Harriet ended up spending large amounts of time in the library. At first it is the two of them cross-checking potion recipes with potion ingredients and checking each other's notes and studying the extra reading. Soon, a few others join them. Sitting at the same table with Hermione and Harriet are now two girls from Hufflepuff, Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones.

Of course, they could whisper and move their mouths. Harriet with her excellent ability to use wards against eavesdropping made it so that they didn't both any of the students or Madam Pince of course. It gave the four girls from the two different houses a chance to get to know each other better.

Of course a few others would come and go in this quiet study group. Hannah and Susan Bones sometimes brought Justin Finch-Fletchly and sometimes the girls brought Lavender Brown or Parvati Patil. For a particularly difficult Herbology lesson, Neville Longbottom was often called in.

At this moment, Hannah was not in the library, because she was in the Hospital wing dealing with a few headaches. Hermione was at the stacks picking a book for the potions. Susan was doing fine. She had brought her Potions book and notebook and sat down next to Harriet. They quietly did their reading from the book until Hermione sat down.

"Okay," she began in that tone. "This potion that Professor Snape is going to have us brew tomorrow is quite tricky."

Susan interrupted. "We know that we have to dice the beetles and squish the puss."

"But the timing of when to stir is the tough part." Hermione said. "If you just start stirring or if you stir in the wrong direction, the potion is going to have the opposite effect."

"Sometimes, I just wish we could skip potions and stick with Transfigurations and Charms," Harriet muttered thinking no one else heard her.

Susan laughed quietly while Hermione glared at her best friend.

"A good potion that has been brewed correctly can do more, Harriet."

Hermione was about to continue the lecture when Madam Pince had had enough of the noise coming from their table.

"Quiet down or leave!"

The three of them took their turns with the books Hermione gave them. Harriet really had to focus. The difficulty of this potion was a level higher than anything else she had done all year. It was frustrating for someone who was good at nearly every other class.

With their work done, they walked Susan back to the Hufflepuff Common room and then walked together back up the Gryffindor Tower. Harriet and Hermione were actually making friends.


	10. Chapter 10

As November finished, the weather turned colder and colder. The mountains around the school became icy grey and Black Lake turned to chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Harriet would look out the windows of Gryffindor tower every morning and she could see Hagrid defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, all bundled up in a moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots. Harriet felt a little sorry for him. She and Hermione felt bad for the guy, even though he made barely passable tea and insufferable rock cakes.

The night before the big Quidditch game between Slytherin and Gryffindor was filled with excitement. Harriet and Hermione were the only ones seen studying in the Common room – that even included sixth and seventh year students. Gryffidnor was all abuzz with rumors that Oliver Wood was keeping really tightlipped. Gryffindor had a new seeker. Wood was guaranteeing a Gryffindor victory.

By eleven o'clock the whole school had turned out into the stands around the Quidditch pitch.

Even Hermione and Harriet were present. It had apparently been Parvati Patil's job to divert the two girls from their normal Saturday trip to the library for extra study and out onto the Quidditch pitch. Lavender Brown was given the job of making sure the two girls had sweaters and scarves and coats all in Gryffindor red. And as the game was about to begin Lavender and Parvati sat on either side of Harriet and Hermione. Then Ron, Seamus, Dean, and Neville came up and sat behind them.

Just then, the Slytherins coasted past them. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle held a large banner that had been painted: 7 in a row! It had the Slytherin snake slithering around the whole sentence. Harriet and Hermione whistled quietly at the art and charmwork – well done.

The players mounted on their brooms. Madame Hooch gave a loud blast on her silver whistle. Then fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. The game was on.

Harriet and Hermione had troubles understanding the game. The two kept whispering about the homework that was due Monday. Of course, it seemed Parvati and Lavender's job – Parvati with Hermione and Lavender with Harriet – was to make sure the two at least cheered. Lee Jordan, a Gryffindor was doing the commentary on the loudspeaker.

"I just don't know if we are going to get all the Potion ingredients marked in the notebook, Harriet," Hermione said quietly to her friend while the crowds roared around them. "From what I read about Quidditch games we could lose up to three hours of good Saturday study time."

Harriet – even though she was Hermione's friend and even though she liked to read a book – was not as anxious as her friend. She did smile with an encouragement that tried to say, "I'll stay up late and study with you if we need it –"

Just then, a cheer went up from the Slytherin side of the stands. Lavender suddenly poked Harriet in the ribs. She looked up just in time to see Slytherin take the large ball. She frowned at Lavender since nothing happened and then bent her head back to Hermione. A minute later, another roar came from the Slytherin fans. Harriet looked up as Slytherin made another threat.

Hermione had started to whisper, "And we still have to coordinate our complicated History of –"

When Harriet heard the words, "GRYFFINDOR SCORE!"

Everyone around Harriet and Hermione jumped up and started to howl and chant into the cold air. Harriet and Hermione stood up and clapped politely but saved their voices. The Slytherins could be heard to moan on their end of the stands.

When it was safe, Harriet and Hermione returned to their discussions. Up and down Harriet and Hermione moved throughout the game. Harriet and Hermione would try every few minutes to understand when Lee Jordan would shout something exciting, but then start to whisper again when it made no sense to them.

Suddenly, she looked up as Lavender grabbed her arm and yanked her body up to look into the air. Every eye had followed Alicia Spinnet, the Gryffindor Seeker.

"The Snitch –" Lavender shouted and pointed. Harriet and Hermione watched as first Alicia and then a boy in green, Terrence Higgs she heard the Slytherins shout chased after it. Alicia was faster and seemed like she was just about to grab that snitch when a green body and run into her, spinning her off course.

"FOUL!" screamed the Gryffindor bench, and Weasel seemed to be the loudest.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily at Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goalposts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, The Snitch was lost and Hermione and Harriet were lost to the game.

"What are you doing over the Holidays, Harriet?" Hermione asked.

"Probably staying right here with the Weasleys," Harriet groaned.

Hermione hugged her tight. "Not if I have anything to say about it. I will ask my parents if you can come visit over the holidays."

The girls kept chatting as the game continued.

"Slytherin in possession – Flint with the Quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes Bel – hit hard in the back by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joinging, Professor – Slytherins score – "

Slytherin erupted in cheers and shouts at the moment.

From there, the game continued.

Suddenly, Terrence Higgs went spiraling down from high above. Alicia had spotted him and was now on his tale thinking he had his eye on the Snitch. He flew down, reached out his hand and grabbed the Snitch.

"I've got the Snitch!" Higgs shouted, waving it above his head, and the game ended.

The Slytherin stands went wild, followed slightly later and less enthusiastically by Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

There was dead silence from Gryffindor. Lee Jordan was saying in a rather unenthusiastic voice. "Terrence Higgs has caught the snitch! Slytherin wins!"

Lee Jordan was very reserved as he left out the results – Slytherin had won two hundred and ten points to twenty.

Harriet and Hermione had gotten their first taste of Quidditch. It was a violent and dangerous and downright frightening game. It was disappointing for Gryffindor though. Slytherin beat Gryffindor. Harriet and Hermione stood there shivering in scarves and blankets. Harriet was not used to the cold – she preferred sun and sand.

When Harriet and Hermione made it back to the Great Hall, Hermione sat down and wrote out a letter to her parents. She introduced them to her friend, Harriet in it, told them she had nowhere to go, and signed it and put it in an envelope. Then, the two walked up to the owlery together.

Up to Hogwart's West Tower they climbed until they made it to the top. It was a circular stone room, cold and drafty – Harriet who was still freezing shivered. Harriet watched as Hermione found one of the healthier looking barn owls. She tied the letter to its claw and watched as it flew up into the afternoon sky. Then, Harriet and Hermione began the walk down.

Harriet was shivering so badly that they took a detour to a classroom that must have been used recently, there was steam coming out of the door. Hermione led Harriet inside where she sighed in happiness over the warmth.

"So, Harriet," Hermione began. "Where do you live normally and why can't you go there?"

Harriet sighed and began to share her full history with Hermione. She told her how her mother's powerful magic had sent her back in time. She told her about growing up in the Temple of Sekhmet.

At that point, Hermione said, "That's why you know so many charms and Defense spells already."

Harriet nodded. "I also know Occlumency, much like the Purebloods here do."

Then, she told her about Imhotep's rebellion, her kidnapping, and how she felt toward Imhotep – not what she did for him, because she was too ashamed. Then, she told her about dying and rising on the exact moment she turned eleven in England.

"That is truly bizarre." Hermione added.

"I think I have a destiny to accomplish here at this time," she said, "But I needed the context and training from the past."

When Harriet was warm enough, they traveled down to the Great Hall for supper. It was one of the best supper's in recent memory – not a single Slytherin was in attendance. Everyone knew they were celebrating their victory – and that made it bittersweet. But Harriet and Hermione enjoyed the peace that did not have any Weasely – Malfoy confrontations.

From there November was over and December came in. By mid-December, Harriet would awaken to find Hogwarts covered in several feet of snow. Now, Black Lake was frozen solid. Owls were now not making the trip through the stormy sky to deliver mail – if one dared, they would need to be nursed to health by Hagrid before they could fly again.

One of the worst things about the weather was classes in the Potions' classroom. Harriet's breath was like mist that froze the minute it came out of her mouth. Often, Harriet would warm her hands by her cauldron as she worked.

Harriet was excited that she would be spending the weeks of Christmas vacation with Hermione. Hermione's parents had graciously accepted. So, when Professor McGonagall had come around with the sign-up sheet for students to stay over the Holiday, Harriet was not one of those. Apparently Ron made a fuss when he found out that Harriet was going with Hermione.

"You two are going to come back even more insufferable than before –" he whined.

Harriet was personally glad that she would not be staying in the dorms with the Weasleys, Percy was the only one she could stand. She was looking forward to the break from the Twins' pranks and from Ron's clingy ways of always being nearby.

Then, the day arrived to leave Hogwarts. Harriet was happy to see the warmer climates of London and to get away for a time. She huddled up next to Hermione Granger and a Hufflepuff named Susan Bones. Soon, the three were packing into a compartment together along with Susan's friend Hannah. The four girls spent the trip eating chocolate.

At one point in the trip, Susan turned to the three girls.

"I had an idea for Boxer Day," Susan said.

"What do you have in mind?" Hannah asked.

"I think we should have a Tea Party for us and our friends."

"It sounds like a wonderful idea," Harriet added. "That way you can show Hermione and I how to act like proper English witches and we can gossip about all the insanity of Hogwarts –"

Susan chuckled, "How did you guess that was exactly what I was thinking?"

Harriet had a secret little smile. "I just know you really well?"

"I think we should just invite the ladies from our small Library study group," Hermione said.

"That way we can properly work on you two –" Hannah laughed.

The rest of the trip to London was planning the Tea party, who was going to be invited, and what they would do at the party.

By the time they rolled into Platform 9 ¾, the sky was already dark when the Hogwarts Express rolled into the city. Harriet and Hermione hugged their friends, Hannah and Susan, then walked past Susan's aunt, Amelia Bones and made their way into the Muggle portion of King's Cross Station.

Waiting nervously were two smartly dressed and intelligent looking people. Hermione ran into her mother's arms and was swallowed up and her father came up from behind and held her close too.

"It is so good to see you, Honey," her mother said.

"Welcome home." Her father added.

When Hermione was done hugging her parents, she turned to Harriet.

"Mum and dad, this is Harriet Potter, my best friend –" she said with a huge grin.

First Hermione's mom and then her dad gave Harriet a big hug. When that was done, they loaded up their trunks into the Muggle car and drove off into London.

The break went fast. Harriet remembered that first night eating out at a Muggle restaurant for the first time in her life – Italian. But her best memory was Christmas. Christmas had a tree filed with electric lights – something Harriet had never experienced before. It had ornaments and tinsel. It was magical in a non-magical way. And under that tree was presents – something she hadn't had since she was one year's old.

Harriet had a few gifts: a scarf, mittens and hat combo from the Grangers. Susan Bones, the girl from Hufflepuff had sent them Tales of Beadle the Bard. Each of them who were new to English Wizarding Society had the book so they could get to know magic better. Harriet and Hermione who didn't have much money or time at the time gave each other a box of Muggle chocolates.

The next day was a quiet affair where Amelia Bones arrived at the Granger House to escort Hermione and Harriet to Bones Manor. Susan wanted to start a tradition for Boxer Day.

Harriet and Hermione were dressed in their best. Harriet had a burgundy colored Witch's robe from her time at Madame Malkin's and Hermione wore her Easter Dress from last year. They were the first ones to arrive to Susan's tea part.

"Harriet –" Susan ran to her, took her arms and gave her gentle kisses on each cheek. Then she did the same after shouting, "Hermione –"

"Thank you for the present, Susan," Harriet said as she handed Susan a small package of her own. Hermione also added it. Of course, Susan didn't get it yesterday since the Grangers did not have an owl, and they had not been to Diagon Alley so Susan would have to settle for Muggle chocolate. Susan smiled graciously as she led the two inside.

In a few minutes later, Hannah Abbot, Susan's best friend from Hufflepuff arrived.

It was a small affair of tea, light sandwiches, and scones. The only other who came from their year was Mandy Brocklehurst, a Ravenclaw. But it was a good time to connect and get to know each other. It was extremely beneficial for Harriet and Hermione who started to learn English Witch's culture better.

In Hermione's room that night, they talked about their day.

"I didn't realize that I have so much to learn when it comes to social etiquette in the Wizarding world," she said.

Harriet nodded. "I had learned etiquette in Egypt, but I didn't know anything about English traditions."

"I just assumed," Hermione continued, "That it was all about waving wands and doing magic. I will have to be more studious here too."

There was one visit for an afternoon that Susan Bones came over to the Granger house. Hermione's parents took them to a movie theater where they watched Beauty and the Beast. It was a learning experience for Susan and Harriet.

Despite the growth in the friendship between Harriet, Hermione, and now even Susan, the best part of the time was just the normal life away from Hogwarts. Harriet returned to Hogwarts happier and excited for the rest of the year.


End file.
